


Darcy Lewis' Day Off

by meleedamage



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wintershock - Fandom
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, Banter, Bucky Barnes Feels, Comedic Violence, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hair-pulling, Phone Sex, Pizza, Shameless Smut, WinterShock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 40,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meleedamage/pseuds/meleedamage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis has a day off. The Winter Soldier has a killer apartment. Hijinks ensue... Sexy hijinks...</p>
<p>This is my very first attempt at fanfic. Hope it doesn't make you barf!</p>
<p>This is unbeta'd since fanfic is my shameful secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heads up!

If there was anything better than sleeping late, Darcy Lewis didn’t want to know about it. She blinked slowly, nestled under her marshmallowy duvet as rays of late morning sunshine crept through the cracks between her curtains and the window frame, lighting her room in an ethereal glow. 

This was a perfect moment. Like that scene in a movie when the clouds part and a single beam of light descends as a choir of angels sings in the background. She half expected her apartment to fill with woodland creatures, sweeping her floor and washing her dishes and sewing her a dress for the ball. 

This one of those rare mornings when her dreadful alarm clock hadn’t jarred her from a blissful slumber at the crack of dawn. There would be no mad scramble to get showered and dressed and fed in a vain attempt to beat Jane to the lab. This was so much more civilized. Darcy Lewis finally had a day off. In fact, Darcy Lewis was waking up on the first day of a long weekend. 

“Friday. Coffee,” she murmured stretching lazily. “Right away, Miss Lewis. I trust you slept well?” Friday replied politely. “And then some…” Darcy purred. 

Life in the Stark tower had its advantages. At a time like this, it seemed almost worth the half dozen times she had risked her life running from killer aliens or killer robots or the days on end spent in the lab while Jane hurtled towards another scientific breakthrough. It didn’t get much better than this. 

She eased out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, starting up the shower and loading a classic rock playlist on her Starkphone. In spite of the lack of AC/DC, she felt as if Stark himself would approve. 

She was mid-lather, singing loudly along to the Doors when all hell broke loose. Her apartment resonated with a cacophony of piercing alarm noises and the flashing of emergency lights that she hadn’t even known existed.

She was so startled that she lost her footing, grinding out a string of profanity that would make even the surliest truck driver blush. She tumbled out of the shower, landing flat on her ass in the middle of the bathroom floor. Suds dripped from her hair, burning into her eyes as she struggled to regain her bearings.

“Son of a motherless whore!” she shrieked, rubbing at her eyes trying to ease the sting of the shampoo. The alarms wailed and the lights continued to flash, creating total sensory overload. How had her perfect morning so quickly devolved into the seventh level of hell? Her answer arrived in the form of a bath towel, smacking her suddenly and roughly in the face. Desperate for relief she scrubbed at her eyes without stopping to consider the source of said bath towel. 

The towel… Wait a minute. Who the hell was in her apartment?!


	2. Strange Days

She scrambled, trying to cover herself, glancing up in a panic at the doorway to her bathroom. It was the Winter Soldier, in full tactical gear, staring down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She froze.

She had seen him around the tower before, mostly scowling in dark corners or quietly staring off into space with a haunted look in his eyes. She had heard the stories about his rocky start and the thousands of dollars in repair bills from the resulting property damage. Whispers in the cafeteria told of his frequent nightmares and the times he would wake up in full assassin mode, violent and disoriented. It didn’t happen often anymore, but he was still dangerous. She suspected that his grip remained tenuous and that he could slip and completely lose control. 

She sometimes caught herself daydreaming about what it would take for him to lose control with her – his breath short, his eyes wild, his bionic hand wrapped in her hair… or around her throat… Yep. She’d spent hours of quality alone time mentally replaying segments from the Winter Soldier Thigh-light Reel. Darcy knew that fantasy seldom made for satisfying reality and was contented with taking matters into her own hands. Literally...

He was still standing and staring at her. His expression remained unchanged. He seemed so different than Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commando, that she had learned about in school and at the museum, smirking and winking in old news reel footage, melting panties wherever he went. Could the vintage manwhore still be buried in there beneath the layers of loss and mindless killing machine that had been added through years of abuse and experimentation by HYDRA? Fucking HYDRA. How could they have done something so terrible to someone so beautiful? 

She remained motionless pinned under his searing gaze – his beautiful searing blue gaze… 

And then there was only the sound of the shower running and Jim Morrison crooning Strange Days. The alarms and flashing lights had stopped. Crisis averted. The Winter Soldier stiffly turned on his heel and walked away. 

“Hey! Wait! Aren’t you going to help me up?” Darcy called after him. She thought that she heard a faint chuckle in response from the direction of her kitchen. She huffed in exasperation and gingerly pulled herself up off the floor. Well, nothing seemed broken at least. She wrapped herself in the towel, turned off the shower and her music and slipped on her glasses.


	3. Roll, baby, roll!

Moving carefully towards the hallway, she poked her head through the doorway. She held her breath and peered towards the kitchen. The Winter Soldier was still in her apartment. He was rifling through her refrigerator, shaking his ass ever so slightly and whistling to himself. He was whistling Roadhouse Blues. This just kept getting weirder by the minute. 

Darcy decided to roll, baby, roll with it. She coolly ambled into the kitchen and loudly cleared her throat. The Winter Soldier turned around, cracking open a beer with his metal hand, winked at Darcy and took a long slow pull from the bottle. 

Darcy’s brain short-circuited from hotness overload. All hands on deck!! This was a young Brando level meltdown. Wait. Get a grip, Lewis! She mentally chastised herself. This guy was a scary killing machine – a scary, fucked up killing machine – a sexy, scary, fucked up killing machine. 

She glanced back towards the bathroom briefly and wondered whether she’d hit her head when she’d fallen out of the shower. Her eyes returned to the man in her kitchen and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a lopsided grin. “You’re welcome,” he quipped churlishly, taking another sip from the bottle. Her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You alright, doll?” he asked, “You aren’t usually this quiet.” 

“Yeah… Sorry… Thank you…” she breathed before sputtering out “Wait! What?!” 

And then the Winter Soldier started laughing at her. He was standing in her kitchen and laughing at her. Aww, hell no!!! Darcy silently seethed. He was smoking hot and still kind of scary but she was not about to let some weird random dude come into her apartment uninvited, hit her in the face with a bath towel, help himself to a beer and then laugh at her when she seemed confused. 

She stalked over to her purse, pulled out her taser, turned around and levelled it at him. His eyes widened and the laughter stopped abruptly. “Not so funny now, am I, Sergeant Shitbird? It has been a fucked up morning and I haven’t had my coffee yet. Don’t piss me off!” 

The Winter Soldier slowly set his bottle down on the counter and raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, lowering his eyes remorsefully and looking up at her through his lashes. “I was out in the hall, heard a commotion and with the alarm sounding, I thought that I should make sure that you were okay.” His gaze moved from her eyes to her taser. “Shoulda known you’d be just fine,” he muttered under his breath, swallowing hard.

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, her trigger finger itching. 

The air seemed electrified as his jaw tightened, his eyes smouldered and raked up and down the length of her body. Her stomach flipped and she realized that a) she was wearing nothing but a flimsy bath towel and b) the man in her kitchen had a thing for women threatening him with weapons. This was so hot and so messed up. 

Darcy licked her lips as he started moving towards her slowly. She set down her taser as he reached for the front of her towel with his metal hand. He pulled her flush up against him and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. It was enough to drive her crazy. “You need to rinse the shampoo out of your hair, doll,” he purred into her ear. “It smells great but it looks like you’re off your rocker.” 

Darcy couldn’t help laughing. She was getting hair advice from the Winter Soldier. And although he seemed a lot less murder-y since he started talking to her, she knew that she must actually be a little off her rocker to be considering throwing caution to the wind with the world’s most prolific assassin. Well, if she was going to die, she might as well die happy, right? 

She grabbed him by the front of his tactical jacket and started backing up towards the bathroom. “I could use a good man to watch my six, Sarge,” Darcy said softly as she peppered his neck with a series of hot open-mouthed kisses. “Mission accepted,” he quipped, stripping off her towel and pushing her into the bathroom with a sharp slap on the ass.


	4. Things get steamy

Darcy set her glasses on the counter and started up the shower as Bucky entered the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind him. She stepped under the water as if he wasn’t even there. He stood frozen in place, watching her – pale skin, lush curves and dark curls calling out to him, waiting for him. She turned around to face him through the glass door and arched her back into the stream of the shower, running her hands through her hair and humming softly. He ground his teeth, wincing slightly as a jolt of primal arousal shot straight through him. 

This broad was somethin’ else alright. To be honest, it was one of his favourite things about her. She loved to bust balls. She had a real knack for it too. From the shadows, he’d seen her countless times, cracking wise, rolling her eyes and mouthing off to the other inhabitants of the tower. She was an equal opportunity ball buster. She didn’t have super powers or years of extensive combat training but she didn’t take shit from anyone. 

She moaned softly from under the cascading streams of water, running her hands down the sides of her body. She was totally fucking with him right now. He shook his head, stripping off his gear and laughing softly to himself. After all the shit he’d been through, his ship was finally about to come in. 

“Hey, old man! If you don’t move your ass, the hot water’s going to run out. Chop, chop!” Darcy sassed from behind the glass door. Bucky smirked at her, reached out with his metal hand and flushed the toilet. The shriek that Darcy let out in response to the change in the water temperature was supremely satisfying. “Ooh, you rotten son of a bitch!” Darcy ground out, “I’m not sure how things were done in olden times but that isn’t considered foreplay. I thought that you were supposed to be good with the ladies…” 

In a flash, he had her pinned up against the cold, ceramic shower wall. His tongue explored her mouth with equal parts enthusiasm and expertise. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. He pawed at her roughly and she melted into him with a long, low hum of appreciation. She sighed as he reached between her legs with his bionic hand, rasping his stubbled jaw against the smooth, wet column of her throat. He slipped two metal fingers inside of her and strummed at her clit with his thumb, whispering harshly, “How’s this working for you, Darcy? Still think the old man’s lost his touch?” 

She rocked her hips into his hand gasping out his name and pulling the hair at the back of his neck. She was perfect. He had never wanted anything so badly. He was going to make this count. He was going to make her beg for it. He pressed against her harder, growling into her ear, “I am your asset and you are my mission. I have a very particular set of skills – skills that I’m going to use to get you off.” 

She moaned loudly in response, grinding shamelessly against his hand. 

“If you come for me now, that won’t be the end of it. I’m going to fucking ruin you, Darcy.” 

This was simultaneously one of the hottest and most hilarious things that she had ever heard. She came suddenly and explosively, a galaxy of stars bursting behind her eyes as her entire body lit up like the Fourth of July. 

He wrapped his arms around her as she drifted back to reality. The water in the shower was getting cold. She opened her eyes and he was admiring her fondly.

“Where have you been all my life?” Darcy asked breathily. 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Bucky replied with a laugh. He turned off the shower and wrapped her in a fresh towel before grabbing one for himself.


	5. Skills

Darcy watched intently as he towelled himself off, mapping the hard planes of his muscular physique for the Thigh-light Reel. He turned around, retrieved her glasses from the counter and turned back towards her, carefully sliding them onto her face. 

“Better?” he asked, taking a step back. 

She looked him over again, laughing hysterically at the sight of his used bath towel, hanging off the end of his still erect member. “This must be one of those skills you told me about earlier. You were right. I am officially fucking ruined.” 

He wrapped the towel around his waist, gathered his gear (and her mobile) into a bundle, threw Darcy over his shoulder and slapped her on the ass. “I ain’t through with you yet, doll!” He growled playfully heading towards the door to her apartment. 

“Wait! Where are we going?” Darcy cried out in a panic, squirming fruitlessly beneath his iron grasp, “I’m indecent!” 

“I’ll say!” Bucky teased, checking for the all clear before stepping out into the hallway. “Don’t worry, sweetheart! I’m just down the hall. And no offence, but my apartment’s nicer than yours and about a million times more secure. I don’t wanna risk any interruptions. You free for the rest of the day?” 

He moved them quickly and effortlessly down the hallway. Darcy reached down and grabbed a handful of ass. “Affirmative, Sarge! I sure hope we aren’t running drills. I don’t do push-ups.” 

“Oh, there’ll be drillin’ alright!” He drawled, opening the door and stepping into his apartment. 

Her set her down on his kitchen counter and gave her a long, slow kiss. 

“I’m thirsty,” he said, pulling away. “Beer, water or Coke?” he asked opening the door to his fridge. She opted for the soda, realizing that she still hadn’t had a coffee or breakfast yet. 

She had to hand it to him, he was right about his apartment. It was at least twice the size of hers and very tastefully decorated – all dark wood and leather furnishings. A series of framed vintage black and white photographs of famous bridges adorned the walls. She opened her mouth to ask about the pictures but closed it again wordlessly, changing her mind at the last minute. The answer was doubtlessly complex and heartbreaking. It made her chest clench and she swallowed hard, unnerved by the depth of the feelings that she had already developed for this man. Things were moving awfully fast but equally not fast enough. 

She smiled as a track from the playlist she had been listening to earlier began to play through the speakers in Bucky’s apartment. _I’m going to love you till the heavens stop the rain… I’m going to love you till the stars fall from the sky for you and I…_

He handed her a soda and a picture perfect cupcake on a fancy dessert plate. 

“Dude! We should have been hanging out ages ago!” Darcy exclaimed. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Did you bake this?” The thought of him in an apron, working a piping bag with his bionic hand was making her tingly. He smiled at her as he unwrapped a cupcake of his own. “I got a sweet tooth. Got these from a place around the corner. I’ll take you there some time, if you like.” Darcy grinned at him with a mouthful of cake and nodded eagerly.


	6. Did I stutter?

They finished up and he kissed her again. He tasted sweet and she sighed happily. He pulled back, looked into her eyes and apologized, “I’m sorry, Darcy!” 

“For what?” She asked tentatively.

“I’ve seen you around for a long time. I should’ve talked to you sooner but I wanted to make sure I had a lid on all my shit-“ Before he could finish, Darcy launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and kissing him passionately. He caught her under the back of her thighs, squeezing gently and sighing into her mouth. Darcy rolled her hips against him, meeting a solid wall of battle-hardened muscle. There was no give whatsoever. 

His grip on her legs tightened and she thought back to his whispered warning in the shower. He was going to ruin her. He was entirely capable of ruining her. She was so fucking ready to be ruined. She was going to ride this till the wheels fell off. 

She grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of his neck and yanked roughly. He pulled back from her with a gasp, his eyes wild. “Less talk. More cock,” she challenged archly.

“Jesus Christ!” He breathed out softly, biting into his lower lip. 

“Did I stutter?” Darcy asked, tilting her head slightly, “I’m on birth control. I’ve got a clean bill of health. So, unless you’ve got a raging STD from the Big Band era called something like the “One O’Clock Jump” that you need to tell me about, let’s get this show on the road!” 

The next thing she knew, her towel was ripped off and she was tossed unceremoniously on to his queen-sized bed. The mattress was firm, covered in crisp slate percale sheets and smelled just slightly of gunpowder. She removed her glasses and set them on his bedside table. He stood admiring her from the foot of the bed, his mouth curled up into a filthy grin as he removed his towel and tossed it at her playfully, hitting her square in the face.


	7. Harder

In a split second, he had crawled on top of her and was kissing her with renewed vigour. His sinfully plush lips moved to her neck, and down over her collarbone before reaching her luscious, ample breasts. She arched up against him, running her fingers through his hair in encouragement. 

Between the hot warmth of his mouth, the sharp sting of his teeth and the cold pinch of his metal fingers over her nipples she completely lost her shit, writhing beneath him like a woman possessed. Her responsiveness stoked a burning need deep inside of him – a compulsion to serve, to please, to satisfy. He wasn’t sure if it was left over from his time as the Asset or if it was something that had been there long before. 

He reached down between them and found her positively dripping. He lined himself up against her entrance, looked into her eyes and raised an eyebrow as if to ask whether she was really, truly sure about this. 

“You’re killing me, Sarge,” she whined softly, “I need you. I need you inside of me…” 

He claimed her lips in a bruising kiss and sheathed himself inside her completely. They shared a brief look of disbelief at the intensity of the sensation. The sound of rain and the rumble of thunder from the intro to Riders on the Storm echoed through his apartment. He gathered her wrists between the fingers of his bionic hand pinning her arms above her head as the metal plates in his arm buzzed and shifted. 

His stubble rasped against her as he nuzzled the side of her neck and began slowly thrusting inside of her. She tilted her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, and ground out “Harder…” He responded with a low growl, tightening his grasp and moving deeply inside of her with increased fervour. 

She squirmed beneath his grasp, each of his movements knocking the breath out of her. She was so close, so close to shattering into a million tiny pieces. 

“God, Darcy! You feel like paradise. You gonna come for me?” His breath was hot in her ear, winding her up even tighter. She remained silent, consumed entirely by the sensation of Bucky forcing the breath out of her lungs. He nipped at her ear lobe tugging gently. She edged ever closer to oblivion, moaning out, “Harder.” 

He released her wrists, grabbed her ankles and shifted her roughly, resting her legs on his shoulders and reseating himself inside her deeply. He pistoned into her with a feral intensity, growling, “I asked you a question, doll. You gonna come for me? I can keep this up as long as it takes.” His gaze was hard and unyielding.

The sound of their bodies slapping together was obscenely erotic. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she dangled by a thread, “Oh, Bucky, please! Please don’t stop. I want it so bad. All I want is you…” 

Hearing her beg was even better than he’d imagined. His entire body thrummed in appreciation and the sound of his rushing heartbeat filled his ears. He wrapped his hand around her throat and she erupted, gasping out a string of nonsensical profanity. He fucked her through her climax relentlessly, grunting harshly between his thrusts in hot pursuit of his own release. 

“I’ve waited so long for this, Darcy. Too long for this, Darcy,” he whispered urgently. “You’re so beautiful. Let me lose myself inside you and forget.” 

She reached up, caressing the side of his face reverently and smiled at him, “I’m here, Bucky. I’m yours. Take what you need from me.” 

He wrapped her legs around his waist, shifting her gently so that he was closer - flush against her body. Darcy wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply, sucking gently on his tongue. For a brief moment, there was only Darcy. A wave of warm euphoria washed over him as he realized that he was finally free to be happy. He could be happy with her. She hummed warmly as he shuddered above her coming inside her in a series of uneven strokes. 

He pulled away from her slowly and rolled on to his side with a sigh of undistilled contentment. They rested quietly, as their breathing returned to normal. Darcy shimmied towards him, groaning softly in response to the tender ache between her legs. He wrapped his arm around her, stroking her back sympathetically. “I hate to say I told ya so,” he teased, giving her ass a squeeze. She squirmed groggily, groaning again and bumped against him detecting that the Wiener Soldier was still at full attention. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked recoiling in surprise. He chuckled darkly, pulling her into his arms tightly, eliciting more squirming and groaning from Darcy. 

“Say, old man, if you took a viagra and have had an erection for over four hours, you have a serious condition called priapism and should seek medical attention immediately,” she said in her best television announcer voice. 

“It’s one of the only nice things that HYDRA ever did for me,” he sniffed, “Think twice the next time you’re tempted to keep askin’ for it harder.” 

“Who said anything about a next time?” she replied softly.


	8. Rub-a-dub-dub

He knew she was just fucking with him but it hit a raw nerve. He hadn’t opened himself up to someone else like this in over fifty years and it left him feeling nauseous and exposed. He stood up from the bed and stalked to the bathroom with a scowl. He closed the door, taking in his reflection as he relieved himself. His mind drifted back to the beautiful and thoroughly debauched woman laying in his bed and his scowl melted away, replaced by an idiotic grin. He looked like a total fucking sap. He shook his head with a laugh and started filling his oversized jetted soaker tub. 

He left the water running and walked to the kitchen. Darcy’s playlist had changed to some terrible band that he didn’t recognize. He turned it off and grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge. He set the bottles on his bathroom counter, lit a few candles for ambiance and tested the water temperature in the tub with his bionic hand. He lowered the lights and returned to his bedroom. 

Darcy hadn’t moved. She looked like an angel sprawled out in his bed and he stood watching her in disbelief. He was one lucky son of a bitch. He climbed into bed, right up next to her and wrapped an arm around her, kissing the back of her neck. She hummed softly. 

“C’mon, wake up, sweetheart,” he purred in her ear, “I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

“It better not be your boner,” she replied with a chuckle, “I need a few more minutes to recover.” She threw an arm over her face with with a sigh. He scooped her up and headed for the bathroom. 

“Ugh! Not this again!” she exclaimed. “It’s 2016. Put me down, you neanderthal!” 

He stepped through the bathroom door, setting her down in the oversized tub. He climbed in across from her, handing her a bottle of water and started the jets. Her face lit up and she moaned in contentment. The candles flickered and Bucky was grinning at her. He looked like a kid at Christmas. It was positively adorkable. 

He said something to her with a smile but she couldn’t hear him over the roar of the jets. She slid through the water towards him, kissing him thoroughly, then turned around to sit with her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. 

“You feelin’ any better now, doll?” he asked. 

“Hell yeah. I know that this might be sudden, Sarge, but I think I’m in love… with your apartment,” she drawled, “The company’s not bad either. So, tell me, what do you like to do for fun besides throwing towels at people, drinking their beer and spending hours in the bathroom?” 

“You forgot eating cupcakes and fucking like a madman,” he chuckled, “I dunno. I’m still trying to figure some of that stuff out. I hang out with Stevie and the bros watching sports and playing poker but it’s really more a matter of routine than enjoyment. I guess, I spend a lot of time reading, listening to music and watching movies and TV. You know, tryin’ to catch up on shit I missed. Bet you could help me with that.”

Now he was speaking her language. She got so excited that she spun around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering every inch of his face with kisses. “Ooh, you’ve come to the right place! I’m turning into a prune anyhow. Let’s move this party to your living room couch! We can order in take-out. It’ll be awesome.” Her enthusiasm made his stomach do flips. She started to stand up to exit the tub and he reached up and pulled her back down towards him. She landed against him with a splash. 

“I don’t know if you should get out yet,” he teased, “You still seem plenty filthy to me.” 

“C’mon, Sarge. I’ll let you grab my boobs and if you play your cards right, I might even- Well, I guess you’ll just to have to wait and see…” He killed the jets, pulled the plug and stood up immediately, reaching down to help her up.


	9. Lights, Camera, Action!

They towelled off and he threw on a t-shirt and sweats. “Pizza work for you, sweetheart?” he asked hopefully. “Always,” she replied, rifling through his drawers in search of something to wear. “Good ol’ pepperoni or pepperoni, sausage and mushrooms. Olives are good too, but hardly anyone I know likes olives. And Hawaiian works as long as it’s bacon and pineapple. Ham is just inferior bacon.” He listened carefully, realizing that he agreed with her on practically every point. He remained unconvinced that pineapple ever belonged on a pizza. 

“Darcy,” he said, and she turned away from his closet to meet his gaze, “I like olives too.” He winked at her and headed to the living room to place their dinner order. It made her swoon. That Barnes charm was powerful stuff indeed.

She settled on an old grey t-shirt that was full of holes (possibly bullet holes) and a pair of striped tube socks that came up to her knees. She stole one of his hair elastics and pulled her hair up into a top knot. She looked herself over quickly in the mirror adjusting the stretched out neck of the shirt so that one of her shoulders was exposed. It was sleazy casual.

She sashayed into his kitchen, retrieving a soda from the fridge. He spotted her from the living room sofa and let out a series of vintage cat calls and wolf whistles. It reminded her of something from an old cartoon. She slid into the seat next to him on the sofa, reaching for his remote as kissed her bare shoulder and attempted to get his hands under her shirt. 

“Okay, so movie-wise,” she said slapping his busy hands away from the hem of her shirt, “Can you give me a few examples of contemporary movies that you’ve seen and enjoyed?”

“Rambo, Terminator and True Romance,” he answered quickly, running his tongue along her collar bone. 

“Hmm.. Action movie fan,” she replied. She wasn’t really that surprised but part of her wondered whether senseless violence and explosions were recommended viewing for a recovering former brain-washed assassin. She glanced at him, considering whether she even wanted to broach the subject at all. 

He pulled her closer to him, nuzzling a spot at the back of her neck. “Mmm… You smell delicious, doll! I can’t keep my hands off of you.” She shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath against her skin. It managed to distract her long enough for him to get his bionic hand up her shirt. It landed at her breast and he rolled her nipple between his fingers roughly. The cold metal against her skin created the perfect counterpoint to the wet warmth of his lips on her neck. She squeezed her thighs together, her eyes rolling back into her head. She hummed softly, running her fingers through his still damp hair. The gentle aching between her legs made her think back to the smell of the gunpowder on his sheets, his hand wrapped around her throat as he pistoned into her relentlessly.

She climbed onto his lap, pulling off her shirt and captured his lips in a searing kiss. He groaned softly as she ground her hips against him shamelessly.

“So, The Terminator,” she said pulling back and setting her hands on his chest, “Have you seen his other movies? Like, The Running Man, Commando, Predator or Total Recall? Wait, forget Total Recall… That’s not a good selection for you.” He admired her with a look of utter confusion. Why weren’t they making out anymore and what was she babbling about? “Total Recall involves a man having his memory wiped and there’s a chair in it that might… be disturbing for you,” she said carefully. He gave her a small, sad smile and blinked slowly. It made her chest clench. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen any of those,” he replied softly, “but let’s skip the one with the chair.” 

“So, you’re okay with movies with explosions?” She asked quirking an eyebrow, “There’s no chance that you could-“ He cut her off with a loud sigh and dramatic roll of his eyes. He shifted her off of his lap, stalking to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of his fridge. 

She chewed her lower lip, watching from the sofa as he stood scowling in the kitchen, staring at the floor and grinding his teeth. She knew it was more than a little unhealthy but she couldn’t deny that he was scalding hot when he was all broody and irritated. She briefly considered calling out an apology. She really hadn’t meant to upset him, but her question had been perfectly valid. She hadn’t done anything wrong and a half-assed apology might just piss him off even more. She decided to give him a minute to himself and casually took a sip of her soda and checked her mobile. She pulled his old t-shirt back over her head and queued up Predator, doing her best to completely ignore him.

He took another sip from his beer, glancing over at her and let out a long slow breath. He wasn’t really angry at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. He just didn’t like to be reminded of the fact that he was damaged goods. He had been having such a great time with her that he had almost started to feel normal. He watched her pretend to ignore him and smiled. Man, he really had it bad. A sudden knock at the door captured her attention and she caught Bucky smiling at her. She stuck out her tongue at him and flipped him off playfully and he winked at her before turning to answer the door.


	10. Predator

He sauntered into the living room setting the pizza box, two plates and some napkins on the coffee table and slid in next to Darcy on the sofa. He turned to face her and smiled, “Thanks for giving me a minute, doll. I still get angry sometimes when I remember that I’m… not normal. To answer your question - I actually really, _really_ like explosions. I think HYDRA must’ve crossed some of my wires or somethin’ because that shit is… so hot.” He stared off into space with a dreamy look in his eyes and Darcy couldn’t help laughing. 

She thought back to his reaction when she had threatened him with her taser in her kitchen and realized that he was dead serious. His eyes moved back to hers and widened into an exaggerated crazed expression. He did great crazy eyes. “Well, I guess you can’t fuck like a madman without actually being a madman, right?” Darcy quipped, grabbing herself a slice of pizza. She snuggled into him, pressing play on the remote. “This is Predator. It’s a personal favourite. It also has explosions. You’re in for a treat!”

The movie played on and Darcy overflowed with self-satisfaction as Bucky sat completely enraptured. The picture on his mounted flat screen was unbelievably crisp and his sound system made her feel like she at the theatre. His leather sofa was plush and spacious with enough room for them to spread out comfortably in any number of configurations. God, his apartment really was so much better than hers. She wondered whether it was too soon to ask about moving in.

Having seen the movie at least a hundred times before, Darcy was struck with a truly nefarious idea. The insurgent camp scene was approaching. It featured about ten minutes of over-the-top carnage and fantastic explosions. She knew that Bucky was going to love it. 

He didn’t even seem to notice as she took up position, kneeling between his legs and removed the elastic from her hair. She reached up, pulling his sweatpants down roughly. He looked down at her with a gasp of surprise and she licked her lips at him suggestively, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer to the edge of the sofa. “Watch the movie or I’m going to stop,” she said firmly, “You’re going to love this part.” 

He reached down, gazing at her hungrily, stroking his soft, warm thumb over her lower lip. She parted her lips, taking his digit into her mouth. She sucked on it gently, circled it with her tongue and bit down sharply. He flinched, drawing his hand away with a growl. “I gave you an order, Sergeant,” she snapped, “Watch the movie or I’m going to stop.” 

His eyes returned to the screen and he sighed when she reached out, taking his hard, hot length in her hand and slowly started to stroke him. She smirked as she watched him struggle to keep his eyes on the screen. As the action sequence started she ran her tongue up and down his skin languidly causing him to moan her name softly. She glanced up at him, his eyes remained fixed on the screen. 

She took his metal hand and settled it at the back of her neck. He stroked her skin tenderly with his thumb and licked his lips, wincing slightly. She slid his length between her lips, taking him in deeply. Her tongue swirled around him and she hollowed out her cheeks and began bobbing her head rhythmically. His breathing quickened and he uttered a string of curses, tightening his fingers in her hair. 

The screen lit up with a series of explosions and she hummed with smug self-satisfaction. She was a fucking diabolical mastermind. His grip in her hair grew tighter and she redoubled her efforts, pleasuring him relentlessly. She had him panting, moaning and completely at her mercy. She knew that this beautiful, powerful and deadly man would have done anything in that moment to keep her from stopping. She revelled in the feeling of control.

“Please, Darcy,” he gasped, “Let me look at you. You’re so beautiful. I want to watch you make me come.” She hummed out an agreement and glanced up meeting his gaze. His eyes were wild with desire and he was breathless. She swirled her tongue over him once more, knocking him over the edge completely and swallowed his hot rush as he came calling out her name. 

She returned to her seat beside him on the sofa and polished off her soda. He sat next to her in a silent daze. She paused the movie, watching him carefully. He remained silent, his eyes unfocused, staring into space. 

“You still with me, Bucky? I didn’t break you, did I?” Darcy teased. 

He turned and looked at her blankly, asking “Who the hell is Bucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it so far, nerds! xo


	11. What could have happened, but didn't...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This never actually happened and shouldn't be considered part of the story. Enjoy! xo

The Asset blinked slowly, trying to clear the cloud of fog that permeated his mind. His hearing seemed muffled as if he was submerged under water. Where was he? His ears filled with high-pitched ringing. He reflexively bit into the side of his mouth and it filled with the sharp metallic taste of his blood. He suddenly heard the voice of Alexander Pierce, “Mission report!” He stilled and took a deep breath trying to refocus his senses. He was in an apartment, sitting on a leather sofa. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants was pooled around his ankles. A pizza box and two ceramic dinner plates sat on the coffee table in front of him. The flat screen television that was mounted to the wall displayed a still image of lush jungle foliage. 

“You still with me, Bucky? I didn’t break you, did I?” A woman’s voice called out from his nine.

He turned and looked at her blankly, asking “Who the hell is Bucky?” 

Her eyes widened in terror, she swallowed hard and began to back away from him slowly. She appeared to be an unarmed civilian, dressed in a ratty old t-shirt and tube socks. He looked down at the pants around his ankles wondering if his state of undress was somehow connected to the woman sitting next to him on the couch. Was this part of the mission? He couldn’t seem to remember… 

He glanced at her silently. She looked angelic and she was trembling in fear. It turned his stomach and he swallowed back a mouthful of bile. He reached down slowly and pulled up his pants, watching her intently. Her bright blue eyes brimmed with tears and her lower lip quivered. He felt a sharp pain in his chest. 

“Where am I?” He asked her trying his hardest to soften the tone of his voice. “You’re in your apartment in Stark Tower,” she answered carefully, a single tear rolling down her cheek. He reached out to wipe the tear away and she flinched, letting out a harsh gasp. He drew back from her, muttering a torrent of foreign profanity under his breath. 

Why had he done that? What was he doing living in Stark Tower? He rubbed the back of his neck in confusion. His eyes darted around the room as he looked for answers and tried to remember. Maybe he’d find something with his gear that would help jog his memory. He stood up from the couch and pointed at the woman, warning “You, stay here.” She nodded silently and he turned and headed into his bedroom. 

Darcy waited for him to leave the room, took a deep breath and picked up her mobile from the coffee table as quietly as possible. It was stone dead. “Motherfucker!” She mouthed silently. She leaned forward, tilting her head to see if she could hear what he was up to. Of course, she couldn’t - he was a deadly assassin. She thought about calling out for Friday, but she hadn’t heard her a single time since entering Bucky’s apartment. He’d mentioned that his apartment was a million times more secure than hers – she suspected that meant disconnected from Stark’s systems. 

She rose from the sofa as quietly as she could, sneaking towards the door to escape his apartment. As she reached for the handle, a dagger whizzed past her ear, the pointy end spearing the door at eye-level. Darcy slowly turned to face him. He was once again in his tactical gear, his fists clenched at his sides. “What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her menacingly. 

Something inside Darcy snapped. You know what? Fuck this! She was the diabolical mastermind who had caused this problem in the first place. He wasn’t that scary. He hadn’t even tried to kill her yet and if he was going to kill her, she decided to go down swinging. 

His jaw tightened and he repeated his question, “What are you doing?” 

“Securing the perimeter,” she replied placing her hands on her hips confidently. He looked at her skeptically. She stepped towards him extending a hand in greeting “Darcy Lewis, at your service. Codename: The Baroness.” 

He took her hand in his firm grasp, his lips turning up into something resembling a smile. Darcy noted the change in his expression and it made her tingly. He was still super hot even when he was in a fugue state. The tactical gear was a good look. Since she had triggered this episode by fucking his brains out, she wondered whether it might be possible to fuck his brains back in. 

“So, you’re my handler?” He asked, glancing down at her small hand still clasped in his own. “That’s right,” she answered giving his hand a squeeze, “I’m here to help.”

He knew immediately that she was lying to him but he sensed that she was harmless and that she would never do anything to hurt him. He wasn’t sure how he knew this but he did. It was the only thing he was sure about so far. He was more comfortable now that he was in his tactical gear but he had been unable to find any clues about his mission and he still couldn’t remember anything. 

“So, HYDRA called,” she said walking casually back to her seat on the sofa and retrieving a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. He stood watching her carefully. She was a truly terrible liar. Quite possibly the worst he had ever seen. He wondered what ridiculous nonsense was going to come out of her mouth next. “Did they?” he asked, egging her on. “Uh huh.” She replied with a nod. “They said that they wanted to reward you for all of your hard work with a few days off.” 

He struggled hard to keep a straight face. This was thoroughly absurd but somehow strangely familiar. He had a sudden flash of her standing in the shower, arching her back into the cascading streams of water, running her hands through her hair and humming softly. It made him feel warm all over. It made him hard. 

He strode over to where she sat on the sofa, dropping to his knees in front of her. He grasped her face between his hands, pulling her towards him and began kissing her roughly. Bucky’s expert finesse was missing entirely. It was hard and fast and desperate. His lips moved to her neck and he whispered to her in a language she didn’t understand. She leaned into him, running a hand through his hair in encouragement. She hummed warmly in an effort to distract him, achieving a measure of success. She managed to reach the edge of one of the ceramic dinner plates on the coffee table with the index finger of her free hand, dragging it towards the edge of the table without attracting his attention. He ran his hands up and down the length of her legs, removing her socks and settled them over his shoulders, rasping his stubbled jaw against the inside of her thighs. As he dipped down to place a kiss against her heated core, she grabbed the plate between her hands and brought it down over his head with a tremendous crash. 

Bucky Barnes blinked slowly, trying to clear the cloud of fog that permeated his mind. He took a deep, slow breath trying to refocus his senses. He was lying face down on his living room floor, covered with a warm blanket. He winced at the pain his in head feeling like the floor of a taxi cab on Sunday morning. He glanced up, spotting a killer set of gams. 

He rolled onto his back with a groan. Darcy looked down cautiously at him from her seat on his sofa, coffee in one hand, taser in the other. The morning sunlight streamed into his living room window lighting her up like a goddess. He smiled up at her and she sighed with relief. “Morning, Sarge! Rough night?” She teased. “I remember explosions,” He replied groggily, “What happened?” 

“Greek cognitive recalibration,” she replied with a smile, “Opa!”


	12. Back to our regularly scheduled programming...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is what actually happened next...

She returned to her seat beside him on the sofa and polished off her soda. He sat next to her in a silent daze. She paused the movie, watching him carefully. He remained silent, his eyes unfocused, staring into space. 

“You still with me, Bucky? I didn’t break you, did I?” Darcy teased. 

He turned and looked at her blankly, asking “Who the hell is Bucky?” 

Her eyes widened in terror, she swallowed hard and began to back away from him slowly.  
The corners of his mouth twitched and he started laughing hysterically.

“Oh, that’s not funny, you fucker!” She cried. 

He was laughing so hard that there were tears streaming down his face. It only served to infuriate her further. She stood up from the couch stiffly and marched silently towards the door. “No! Wait! Darcy, I’m sorry!” He called out. He stood up to chase after her, forgetting that his pants were still down around his ankles. His feet tangled in his pants and he fell flat on his face, hitting the floor with a sickening crunch. 

Darcy turned from the door at the sound of the collision and strolled over to inspect the damage. He remained motionless on the floor. “Serves you right, you son of a bitch!” She hissed, kicking him in the ribs, “You scared the shit out of me.”

His metal hand shot out, grabbing her ankle. He rolled on to his back and pulled her down on top of him. He wrapped her in his arms showering her in kisses, “I’m so sorry, doll. Please stay with me! I’m crazy about you.” Darcy glared down at him angrily, relenting when she detected a hint of genuine panic in his eyes. 

“I did you a solid, dude, and that’s the thanks I get?” She asked bitterly. “I have poor impulse control?” He replied, adding a dash of crazy eyes. She couldn’t help laughing. “Never again,” she said poking him in the chest to reinforce her point, “Promise me.” He looked at her long and hard, hoping to illustrate the seriousness of what he said next, “Scout’s honour. I’m gonna make it up to you too.” “You bet your ass you will!” She sassed back, “And it’s going to have to be something really, _really_ special. I’d hate to have to tell Rogers about this.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her dangerously, “You threatenin’ me, sweetheart?” Darcy’s breath caught in her chest and she swallowed hard. “Not smart,” he said shaking his head in disappointment. Darcy’s eyes widened, her pulse racing. “And there’s the little matter of the boot in the ribs. Kickin’ a man when he’s down,” he continued, his eyes burning into her with blistering intensity, “So dirty…” Darcy’s ears filled with the rush of her hammering heartbeat. 

He reached up grabbing her hair at the base of her neck with his bionic hand, the metal plates shifting. “Oh, you like you this? Don’t you, doll?” He teased, tugging her hair sharply. Her eyes snapped shut and she moaned his name softly. “Look at me, Darcy!” He whispered harshly. She opened her eyes slowly, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. “So dirty… Aren’t ya?” He drawled, “Bet you’re wet for me too… Hmm?” “Uh huh,” she answered breathily, her eyes unfocused. 

Her rolled her on to her back with a growl, his hand still grasping her hair. She held her breath in anticipation of the hot crash of his lips against her own. He abruptly released her, pulling up his pants as he rose to his feet with a smirk. “So, are we gonna finish the movie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Darcy looked at him and smiled sweetly. She pulled up the hem of her shirt, exposing herself to him and spread her legs open obscenely. “Wouldn’t you rather watch this instead?” She purred, running her hands along the insides of her thighs. It wiped the smirk off his face immediately. His mouth gaped open and he stood staring in silence as she centred her left hand and parted her lips. “What’s the matter, Sarge?” She asked, strumming herself deftly, “Cat got your tongue?”

He dropped to his knees, crawling towards her, his eyes darkening with desire. He brought his lips to the inside of her left thigh, sucking gently and running his tongue along her skin. He stopped, resting his cheek against her leg, trying hard to commit the moment to memory. “Darcy,” he sighed, “You’re perfect. Perfectly, perfectly filthy.” “Bite me,” She retorted with a smile. He turned his head and nipped at her skin playfully. 

“Any chance you can bunk over, doll?” He asked, stroking his fingers along the outside of her thigh. “Hell yeah!” She answered with a grin. “After the shit you pulled tonight, you’re lucky the sofa’s so comfortable!” “No dice, sweetheart!” He said rising to his feet and lowering his metal hand to help her up. “Come to bed. I’ve got some makin’ up to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't quite get as far with this as planned but felt that it was better to post something than nothing. This got hijacked by a shit day at work and subsequent banging it out with my better half (a giant viking). You try turning that shit down! I'm seriously loving the comments & kudos! Hope you nerds enjoy! xo


	13. Makin' up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by feedback received from leftennant...

Bucky stood reaching out to her, gazing down at her fondly. Darcy looked up at him wondering how a single person could be so fucking enticing and so fucking infuriating at the same time. All the false starts, rough handling and lurid exchanges had her wound tightly. She wasn’t sure how much more she could stand. 

Touching herself while he stood watching had been nearly as much about chasing release as wiping that shit-eating smirk off his stupid pretty face. While his reaction had been monumentally satisfying, it wasn’t the brand of satisfaction that she craved so desperately. He had raked her over the coals and she was scorched and burning for him. Oh, he was going to make it up to her, goddamn it, even if it took all night.

She reached up taking his hand and he pulled her effortlessly into his arms, holding her tightly and gently rocking from side to side. He moved them towards the kitchen counter, reaching around her to retrieve a small remote. He pressed a few buttons and the opening beat of Take It There by Massive Attack filled the apartment. Darcy looked up at him, nodding her approval in time with the steady rhythm. He lowered his head, kissing her softly. She pulled away, grabbing a handful of the front of his shirt and started walking towards his bedroom, dragging him behind her. 

Bucky bit his lower lip softly as Darcy led him down the hallway. It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out that she was good and salty over all his teasing. God knows, she had every right to be. He just couldn’t resist screwin' with her. She gave as good as she got and he couldn’t get enough of spending time with someone who didn’t have to struggle to keep up. 

He had been alone for so long - isolated by HYDRA, stripped of his humanity, his memories stolen. Decades of ice-cold loneliness… When his memories had started to return, there was such pain and horror, a different sense of isolation had taken over. No one would ever truly understand the shit he had been through, the things he had done or the man who had endured. How could anyone possibly love him ever again? The day he had spent with Darcy had given him a glimmer of hope for the first time in years. He had reached out to her and in response she had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and was dragging him to bed. He ached to share every part of himself with her, to learn everything about her.

His thoughts returned to the sight of her sprawled out for him on his kitchen floor, inviting him to watch while she got herself off. He so badly wanted to be her undoing, to be the one to give her everything she’d ever dreamed of, to bury his face between her thighs and thank her for rolling the dice on him and giving him another chance to be a man. He was going to use every weapon in his arsenal to give her the ride of her life.

When they reached his bedroom, she turned to face him, tugging on the handful of shirt that remained in her grasp to bring his face down to her level. “Playtime’s over, Sarge!” She growled at him, “Any more of your bullshit and I’m going to make you wish that you were back in cryostasis. Comprende?” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she quickly pulled off his shirt and removed her own. He gave her a playful shove and she fell backwards on to his bed. “You better make this good, old man!” she said, landing with a scowl. “Oh, I keep my promises, sweetheart,” he purred covering her body with his own, “I ain’t through fucking ruinin’ you yet.” 

She reached up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and kissed him like her life depended on it, unprepared to risk another smirky fake out. He placed a hand on each side of her face, stroking her skin tenderly and meeting her lips with unbridled enthusiasm. They kissed each other breathless, their mouths combining in a devilish swirl of lips and teeth and tongues. 

She was consumed by the feeling of the nearness of him, his powerful physique insulating her from any possibility of distraction from the outside world. Being with him like this felt so right, like the most natural thing in the world. She stole furtive glances at his face as he kissed her. His eyes were closed and his expression was one of absolute veneration. It was beautiful – he was beautiful and he wanted her.

He ground his hips against her, gently sucking on her tongue and she melted into him with a soft moan. His mouth moved to a sensitive spot below her ear as his hands traced lightly down the sides of her body, coming to rest at her hips. His hot breath on her neck finally made something inside her snap. He brought out the worst in her in the best possible way. It was time to shift this into overdrive.

Through sheer force of will, she rolled him onto his back in one swift movement. He landed beneath her with a gasp of surprise. “I’m going to cut you a break since you’re obviously a little rusty,” she ground out, crawling up his body with a singular sense of purpose. She rested her knees above his shoulders and hovered above his lips. “Fall in, Sergeant!” She teased. He glanced up at her as she waited above him and was certain that this was the single greatest moment of his entire life.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her down eagerly and began kissing her with long, languid strokes of his tongue. She threw back her head, gripping the sheets tightly and moaned out a colourful burst of profanity. His grip on her hips tightened, as he flicked and circled her clit, inscribing her with a lengthy tribute comprised of equal parts gratitude and contrition. 

She ground against him shamelessly, writhing above him and calling out for more. He redoubled his efforts, delving deeply with his tongue, sucking and nipping at her, growling savagely. Darcy’s senses contracted towards a singular white-hot point of focus as she hurtled towards the precipice. She thrust downwards sharply and her body filled with warmth as her climax bloomed with exquisite intensity. 

The bed shuddered beneath them emitting a harsh snap. Bucky’s strong hands anchored her against him and he kissed her softly as she rode out her orgasm. Darcy’s eyes opened slowly, refocusing on the framed portrait of the Brooklyn Bridge that occupied the wall above them. It seemed a lot more crooked than she remembered. She looked down discovering that the entire bed was deliciously askew and almost certainly broken. 

As she rolled off of him in a fit of laugher, a caster shot out from under the bed. Bucky raised his head, craning his neck in time to watch as it zipped across the floor and settled against the junction of the baseboards in a far corner of the room. “You’re here one day and you’re already redecoratin’?” He asked her, arching an eyebrow. Darcy snuggled into him, humming weakly, too spent to formulate a snide reply. She’d ridden it till the wheels fell off and she wasn’t nearly ready to call it quits just yet. But first, sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday! Dig in & enjoy, nerds! :)  
> Thanks to all for the kudos and comments!! Words cannot adequately express the depth of my appreciation. xo


	14. We need to talk

Darcy rolled around in bed in a futile attempt to get comfortable. Her marshmallowy duvet was missing, the mattress was hard as cement and the entire bed sat crooked on the floor. The Winter Soldier had a killer apartment but his bed was a broken, uncomfortable pile of shit. 

She sat up with a groan, trying to stretch out the knots from seemingly every part of her body. Where was that sexy, smirky bastard anyhow? Her feelings were a little hurt by the fact that he had ditched her the morning after, leaving her to wake up in a cold empty bed. And then she smelled coffee… 

Yesterday had been so awesome in so many ways but there had been a distinct lack of coffee. In addition to the bed situation, Darcy identified the coffee shortage as a top priority. She reached over, switching on the lamp that sat on the bedside table. Her stomach flipped when she spotted a large coffee, her glasses, her mobile and a note.

She grabbed the coffee and put on her glasses. The note was written in a tight old-fashioned cursive script. It reminded her of the birthday cards that she used to get in the mail each year from her grandparents. She sighed lightly and read it.

_Gone out. Back soon. Stay here. We need to talk. – Sarge_

Darcy scowled. This was quite possibly the single worst love note ever written. She pictured Bucky reading the note, salaciously winking and biting his lip in between each instruction. Nope. It was still a shitty note. 

She took a long sip of the coffee. It was cold and black and unsweetened. Ugh. Sacrilege! 

This just kept getting better by the minute. She stood up angrily, putting on the t-shirt that she had worn the day before. She left the note and coffee on the table, grabbed her mobile and moved towards the bedroom door. 

When she reached for the doorknob, she heard the bass notes of two distinctive male voices coming from the kitchen. She cracked open the door, peering down the hallway and stood listening in on their conversation. 

It was Bucky and Steve Rogers. They were standing in the kitchen in athletic gear, drinking some gnarly-looking smoothies, having returned from a morning workout. Seeing the two of them together in the kitchen like this, flushed and glistening from exertion, brought to mind some of the rumours she had heard about the two of them together – lonely nights in the trenches, holding on ‘til the end of the line… 

“Well, I hardly saw you yesterday and you weren’t answerin’ my text messages either. Of course I was gonna worry about you, Buck!” Steve said leaning on the counter.

“I told ya, I’m fine.” Bucky replied tersely, crossing his arms across his chest.

“So, what were you up to then?” Steve asked.

“Eating pizza and watchin’ Predator,” Bucky answered, “Have you seen it? It’s great.” 

Darcy grinned, her heart fluttering wildly.

“All day?” Steve replied raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Yeah, I went to bed early.” Bucky answered, running his bionic hand through his hair.

“You hardly sleep, Buck! That sounds like bullshit to me.” Steve replied fiercely.

Darcy’s mouth dropped open and she gasped silently. _Captain America just swore!_ Somewhere a bald eagle was crying.

“I told ya, I’m fine,” Bucky growled. “I don’t wanna talk about it and I don’t need ya checkin’ up on me!”

Steve relented, trying to defuse the situation.

“Alright. I hear ya,” Steve said in a calm, even voice, raising his hands in surrender. “Are you comin’ by for the game later?”

“Nah. Sorry. I’ve got plans,” Bucky said, lowering his gaze.

“What plans?!” Steve asked angrily, clenching his hands at his sides.

These two were worse than an old married couple. Darcy had heard enough. She casually strolled into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter as if she owned the place. “’Sup dudes?” She chirped with a grin. 

“Ma’am,” Steve nodded in his best Captain America voice, staring at her as if he was trying to figure out the answer to eleven down in the Sunday crossword. 

“Morning,” Bucky sighed softly. Steve glanced at him from the corner of his eye and Bucky shrugged weakly, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

It had suddenly become awfully quiet, awkwardly quiet… so very awkward.

“So, how’d ya sleep, doll?” Bucky asked, leering at Darcy with a filthy smirk. Steve couldn’t help rolling his eyes. 

“Ugh. It was the worst,” she groused with a frown. “This jerk I met yesterday pulled the old dine-and-dash on me. Oh, and I’m not sure if you noticed but your bed’s broken, Sarge!” 

Steve’s eyes grew wide, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Bucky laughed quietly, delighting in Steve’s discomfort. He loved watching the master at work.

He eyed Darcy hungrily, admiring his own handiwork. She was a beautiful mess. Her dark curls were a tangle and she was wearing the same destroyed t-shirt from the day before with one tube sock still on. He was gripped by the sudden urge to toss Steve into the hallway and carry Darcy back to bed to break it some more. Darcy caught him staring and couldn’t resist going in for the kill. “You still with me, Bucky? I didn’t break you, did I?” she asked archly.

He recognized the question from the night before. She’d asked it and he’d responded by pretending to turn into The Asset. He also remembered that she’d threatened to tell Steve all about it… Steve liked a joke as much as the next guy, but Darcy had been genuinely frightened and Bucky was pretty sure that Steve would react with more punching than laughing. A flash of panic crossed his face. Darcy thrilled at watching him squirm.

Steve's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, still trying to puzzle things out. There seemed to be a lot going on here that he wasn’t in on. At least it explained where Bucky had been yesterday, which was definitely a relief. Although Bucky was doing much better now, Steve knew that he would never stop worrying about him. This was such an encouraging development in Bucky’s recovery. It filled Steve with hope and just a little bit of envy. Darcy was a knockout and a spitfire to boot.

“So, how long’s this been going on?” Steve asked, breaking into a wide smile.

Darcy piped up quickly without giving Bucky a chance to respond. “He broke into my apartment, threw me over his shoulder and carried me here late yesterday morning, caveman-style. The rest, like both of you, is history.”

Steve glanced over at Bucky raising a brow. “She mighta left a few things out,” Bucky replied. Darcy coughed loudly. “We can talk about it later. Don’t you have some place you need to be, punk?” Bucky asked, hopeful that Steve would take the hint. He was dying to get Darcy all to himself.

“Yeah. Alright. We’ll talk about this later!” Steve said walking towards the door. “See you tomorrow,” he nodded before letting himself out.

The moment the door closed, Bucky was all over her, kissing her, pawing at her and trying to get his hands up under her shirt. 

“Woah! Wait! Hold on!” Darcy sputtered, slapping his hands away and squirming out of his grasp. 

Bucky pulled away, looking at her carefully. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you see the note and the coffee I left ya? I didn’t want to leave but I forgot to cancel with Steve and-“ 

“Cold, black, unsweetened coffee and the world’s shittiest love note,” Darcy interrupted, “You sure know how to treat a lady, Sarge!” 

He turned his head from side-to-side, pretending to search the room. “I don’t see a lady here, sweetheart.” 

“Your note said that we need to talk,” she replied flatly.

“Yeah. I think we do,” he answered, lowering his gaze, “This is hard for me, Darcy! I’m not sure what you’ve heard but I’m a little rusty, like over sixty years rusty. Yesterday was…” 

“Awesome?” Darcy offered, taking his metal hand in her own.

“Yeah. It was,” he replied with a lopsided grin, “I’m sweet on you, doll. I just want to be with you and try to be the one to make you happy.”

Darcy smiled at him, reflecting on what he had just said. This might be the first time in history that ‘we need to talk’ had ended in something other than heartache. 

"Well, you could start by getting a new bed and a coffee maker. Oh, and that note you left sounded like it was written by The Asset,” she teased, “On the plus side, I heard your girlfriend totally puts out.”

"You don't say," Bucky drawled, pulling her in for a kiss, "Sounds like my kinda girl."


	15. The Sneak Off

Darcy poked her head out into the hallway, looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear. The Winter Soldier was in the shower and she was going to use the opportunity to slip back to her own apartment for sweet, sweet coffee and some clothing with fewer bullet holes. At least, that was the official reason that she was sneaking out of his apartment.

In truth, Darcy liked a challenge and was eager to prove that she could sneak away from a master assassin undetected. She thrilled at thought of the look of shock on his face when he finished his shower and discovered himself in his apartment alone. And just maybe, another part of her was doing this to say, I might be your girlfriend but you don’t control me and I’m still going to do things my way. The sooner he understood this, the better. 

She stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her softly and crept along as quietly as possible. The trip was uneventful and she entered her own apartment with a sigh, closing the door behind her. The Winter Soldier had a killer apartment but there really was no place like home. She set up her coffee maker and tidied up a little, feeling a flutter when she picked up Bucky’s empty beer bottle from the counter and deposited it into her recycling bin. 

The intoxicating smell of coffee wafted through her apartment and her mouth started to water. She added just the right amount of cream and sugar and took a long slow sip. Pure bliss! 

She entered her bedroom and began packing an overnight bag. She gathered some toiletries from her bathroom. Walking back through her bedroom door, she caught sight of her bed and gazed at it longingly. It looked so soft and warm and... level. Maybe she could lie down for just a couple of minutes. Helpless to resist, she stashed the items from the bathroom into her overnight bag and set her coffee and glasses on her bedside table. She climbed back in to bed, pulled her duvet over her head and drifted off to sleep.

Bucky towelled himself off and inspected his face in the bathroom mirror. This whole boyfriend thing looked good on him. He turned his head and considered whether it might be time to cut his hair. Maybe he was finally ready to rid himself of this holdover from his time as The Asset and move forward with his life. He’d bring it up with Darcy to see what she had to say. He had no doubt that she would have a strong opinion on the matter. He grinned widely, flushing with warmth, wondering whether life could possibly be sweeter.

He stepped out of the bathroom. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. He did a quick sweep of each room. Darcy was gone. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Had something happened to her? 

He ran to his bedroom in a panic and threw on his tactical gear. He grabbed his mobile to call her and realized that he didn’t even have her contact information. He sat down on the edge of his broken bed running a hand through his hair, trying to focus on his breathing and maintain his grip. He glanced at the bedside table, spotting the note he’d left for Darcy. He picked it up and read it over. 

_Gone out. Back soon. Stay here. We need to talk. – Sarge_

She wasn’t kidding – it was fucking terrible. There were so many things that he wished he’d written instead. He set it back down on the table beside the nearly full cup of coffee with a sigh. The coffee… Was it possible that she had just gone out for coffee? He decided to start looking for her by checking her apartment.

Darcy awoke, blinking slowly, nestled under her marshmallowy duvet as rays of late morning sunshine crept through the cracks between the curtains and the window frame, lighting her room in an ethereal glow. Only this wasn’t her room… She was definitely in her own bed but she no longer appeared to be in her apartment. Was this Bucky’s bedroom?

She stretched with a yawn trying to figure out whether she was actually awake or if this was all part of some crazy caffeine withdrawal-induced dream. Bucky’s bionic arm suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her up against him tightly with a sleepy grumble. He appeared to be completely naked and very happy to see her, judging from the prodding she felt against her lower back. Darcy rolled over, turning to face him and bristled at the saucy smirk on his face. 

“Did you steal my bed, old man?!” she demanded, poking him in the chest sharply. 

“You broke mine,” he quipped. 

“That wasn’t all me, dude! You were there too,” she fumed, “You can’t just go around stealing people’s stuff!” 

“I’m just borrowin’ it until I can scare up a permanent replacement,” he growled, “And you’re one to talk, sneakin’ away while I was in the shower. You scared the shit out of me, sweetheart!” 

Darcy pulled away from him, sitting up stiffly. “I just wanted to get a decent coffee and some fresh clothes,” she seethed, “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you.” 

She started to stand up and his metal hand shot out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into bed. Darcy landed with a gasp. It was more than a little disconcerting how much she liked being manhandled like this. Her entire body sparked with arousal.

“You could’ve left a note!” he ground out, pinning her to the bed beneath him, his eyes smouldering.

“Yeah, I guess I could have… So, what? You’re just pissed that I outsneaked you… Outsnuck you? Whatever. Deal with it!” Darcy huffed, as he loomed above her, watching her carefully.

“God, it makes me so fucking hard when you’re all fired up like this, doll!” Bucky said breathily, pushing up her t-shirt and grinding up against her roughly. 

Darcy writhed beneath him, freeing herself enough to wrap her arms behind his neck and her legs around his waist. He pressed his mouth against the side of her throat, licking and nipping at her. “Oh, fuck yes,” she moaned out, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

He palmed her breast and whispered into her ear sharply, “You’re not a very nice girl, taking off on me like that, are ya?” 

She replied with a firm tug of the hair at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he continued, pulling back to meet her gaze, “I’d say somebody oughta teach you some manners, but I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, sweetheart.” 

“What can I say?” Darcy purred, “You bring out the worst in me, Sarge!”

She pulled him down towards her and kissed him senseless. He gasped slightly at the sheer intensity of it and she could feel him smiling softly against her lips. She tilted her hips up towards him and squeezed her legs around him tightly, offering herself to him. 

He pushed into her slowly, moving inside her with long, firm strokes as if they had all the time in the world. Darcy focused on the closeness of him and the feeling of his hot breath against her skin and his warm, strong hands mapping out the curves of her body. 

She twisted her fingers in his dark, soft hair and rocked against him. 

“More... Don’t stop… I want more…” she called out. 

He kissed her deeply and his chest vibrated with a low hum of pleasure. She could feel something beautiful building inside of her as their bodies rolled together in an instinctually synchronized rhythm. He moved a hand to her hip, gripping her firmly, anchoring her against him.

“Fuck…” he murmured, “I’m so glad I found you, Darcy. You’re all I want… I need to feel you come apart for me.”

It was like every corny metaphor that she had ever heard but it was so goddamned good that her cynicism was slipping away. With each stroke he reached deeper inside of her, through the layers of snark and sass, leaving her raw and exposed. He whispered words of encouragement, moving against her like waves on the shore. Her ears filled with the sound of her rushing heartbeat, as she felt her arousal building. 

“More... Don’t stop… I want more…” she repeated.

He gripped her harder, moving inside of her faster, rasping his stubble against the side of her neck, biting down on her collarbone. She thrust up against him, matching his speed, twisting her fingers in his hair tightly. He moved his bionic hand to her throat and squeezed lightly. 

“Tell me you want it, Darcy.” he growled, “Tell me that you want me to give it to you.”

“Oh fuck, Bucky! Don’t stop… Give it to me… I want it so bad!” Darcy called out as she teetered on the edge. He buried himself inside of her deeply and her climax crashed over her intensely as he came inside her with several sharp snaps of his hips. He rolled off of her carefully and pulled her into his arms, humming with satisfaction.

They held each other quietly, basking in the afterglow. Darcy’s voice finally broke the silence. 

“Thanks for not breaking the bed this time, Sarge!”

He laughed quietly, giving her ass a playful squeeze. 

“Anything for you, doll!” 

“So, how exactly did you manage to move my bed from my apartment into your room without waking me?” she asked cocking an eyebrow.

“That information’s classified, sweetheart,” he replied with a grin, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”


	16. Things get weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favourite chapter to date. Dig in & enjoy! Thanks in advance for your kudos & comments. You nerds are alright... xo

Darcy sat on the sofa, nibbling at a pizza crust and brimmed with a feeling of accomplishment. She had managed to get into some fresh clothes of her own courtesy of the overnight bag that had mysteriously appeared in Bucky’s apartment along with her bed and coffee maker. And they had finally made it all the way through Predator. 

Bucky was enhanced in a variety of different ways, but sitting next to Darcy on the sofa seemed to severely diminish his attention span. Between his busy hands and his filthy mouth, she had pressed pause and rewind on the remote so many times that she was surprised the batteries hadn’t worn out.

As the credits rolled, Darcy wondered which movie she could suggest for them to watch next. Bucky had other ideas...

“I wanna show you something, sweetheart,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, I’ll bet,” she teased, turning to face him with a suggestive grin.

“Nah. I’m being serious, doll,” he continued reluctantly, “but I gotta warn ya, it’s kinda weird and you’ll need to keep it under your hat. No one knows about it…”

Ooh!! Now, this was intriguing! Darcy’s mind started racing with a million thoughts of what the big secret might be. A collection of high heels in men’s size 12? A penchant for Golden Girls erotic fan fiction? Scrapbooking? She could hardly stand the suspense.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Sarge!” she replied, taking his cybernetic hand in her own. 

“C’mon,” he replied with a smile, standing up gingerly.

He led her down the hallway past his bedroom to a bookshelf at the end of the hall. The shelves were lined with dozens of tomes – a mosaic of colours and sizes and subjects. He’d mentioned reading before but seeing this, she realized that he was a total fucking nerd. It was so hot… 

He ran his hand along the spines of the books on the second shelf, stopping at a large green volume labelled in sparkly golden script in a language that she didn’t recognize. He removed it from the shelf and carefully handed it to her. It felt as if it weighed nothing at all. She opened it up and flipped through the pages. They were gilded at the edges and marked with the same illegible script. The soft fragrance of peppermint, anise and evergreens in winter seemed to waft up from the pages. 

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, handing it back to him with a smile.

“It’s enchanted or somethin’,” he replied, returning it to the shelf.

He hooked his finger over the top of the book, tilting it towards himself as if he were pulling a lever. The wall emitted a rumbling sound and the bookshelf opened out towards them revealing a hidden passageway. Darcy’s eyes grew wide in amazement.

“Duuuude… A secret passage?! Your apartment is fucking amazing!! Where does it go?” she gasped.

“It depends where the book is placed on the shelf. C’mon. You’re gonna love this!” he said, taking her hand and leading her through the tunnel. 

After turning several corners, they arrived at their destination. It was a combination of odd contradictions – so very real but almost certainly an illusion. It felt a little like a room, but they appeared to be outdoors. It seemed warm and cozy, but also endlessly vast. A lush carpet of green grass spread beneath their feet and above them stretched a brilliant night sky filled with a million shooting stars. The vibrant green plumes of aurora borealis flickered up from the edge of the horizon. The air was warm and filled with the sound of crickets and the distant notes of a vintage Wurlitzer organ. 

They appeared to be alone and at some sort of old-timey carnival. There was skee-ball, a shooting gallery and a number of unmanned boardwalk games of chance. A large striped tent housed an assortment of vintage pinball machines and arcade games, including Tekken 3, Time Crisis II, Spyhunter and Crazy Taxi. There was also a funhouse, complete with a hall of mirrors, bumper cars, a ferris wheel and a delightfully charming old carousel featuring dozens of elaborately carved and brightly painted horses. She stood agape, struggling to take it all in.

Bucky nudged her, offering her some fresh popcorn from a red and white striped paper bag with a smile. She glanced at him with a look of utter confusion. “I told ya it was weird…” he sighed, lowering his gaze. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms behind his neck drawing him down for a kiss. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky! It’s fantastic. Did this come with the apartment?” 

“It’s kind of a long story…” he answered with a frown. 

“Alright. Come tell me all about it!” she said warmly, taking him by the hand and dragging him towards the merry-go-round.

She mounted a glittery white unicorn with hair the colour of cotton candy. He stood beside her, resting his bionic hand on her back. She snapped the reins, the Wurlitzer played and the carousel began to rotate lazily as she rose and fell in time with the music.

“So, how did this happen?” Darcy asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“Well, an alarm sounded. I heard a commotion coming from your apartment-“

“No, no, no!” she interrupted with a laugh, “How did you end up with a carnival in your apartment? Is this even in your apartment? How does it fit?”

“The book I showed you earlier... It was a gift,” he replied.

“From who?” Darcy asked, watching him closely.

“From Loki,” Bucky answered, swallowing hard. “In May of ’44, I was on a furlough while Steve and the Commandos were busy capturing a HYDRA submarine called the Leviathan. I went to London instead of goin’ home. I was way too fucked up from Zola's tinkerin’ for a visit with my family... And I… uh… ran into Loki. We… uhh… spent a beautiful afternoon together.” He stared off into the distance, his thoughts seemingly miles away.

Darcy’s brain exploded into a million tiny pieces. Bucky and Loki had been together – together, together… Pre-HYDRA Bucky was smoking hot and Loki was the fucking God of Mischief and also smoking hot. She envisioned the pair of them in a cheap hotel room, naked, glistening, kissing each other ravenously. Her heart started racing and she gripped the reins in her hands tightly trying to ground herself. Were Loki still alive, she wouldn’t have hesitated to ask about the possibility of a historical reenactment. You know, for science...

“So, you’re into dudes? At last, we can share everything!” she replied with shameless enthusiasm.

"Oh, no!” he answered with a chuckle, “Loki was most definitely female at the time and it was just what the doctor ordered, but I think he’s still kinda sweet on me…”

Darcy scowled in abject disappointment.

“When I arrived at the tower, the book was waiting for me in my apartment. Loki’d left a note inside and I guess we became… pen pals?” Bucky said as if even he had difficulty believing it were true.

Darcy looked at him incredulously, remaining silent.

“I’d open the book and find letters from him and write letters back and leave ‘em in the book. Neither of us have a lotta close friends. He recommends stuff for me to read. He doesn’t judge me over my past and I try to do the same for him. He’s actually pretty great and he really helped me with my recovery. I suspect there mighta been magic involved…” 

“Wait,” Darcy sputtered, “Loki’s still alive?! Oh my God, that’s why you can’t tell anyone about this. Ugh. Thor’s gonna be SO pissed!”

“Hey, what happened to ‘Your secret’s safe with me, Sarge!’?” Bucky asked with a serious look of concern.

“I meant what I said,” Darcy replied curtly, “but we both know that eventually Thor’s going to discover that Loki’s full of shit. He always does…”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed with a small, sad smile. 

“So, does Loki ever come by for a visit?” Darcy asked with renewed interest.

“Whatever he’s up to, I don’t think he can,” he replied thoughtfully.

Darcy released the reins and the carousel slowed to a stop, her unicorn frozen at the high point in its cycle. She turned to face Bucky and found him gazing at her fondly, their faces nearly level. 

“Well, that’s some of the craziest shit that I’ve ever heard,” Darcy said, “but I can’t blame him for being sweet on you, Sarge.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her like it was going out of style. He tasted like popcorn and bad intentions. It made Darcy’s mind start racing with thoughts of the hall of mirrors. He tossed her over his shoulder with a growl and started marching towards the large striped tent. Darcy watched sadly as the hall of mirrors moved farther and farther away.

He set her down on top of an old pinball machine with a wink and she couldn’t help grinning widely. He rolled his lower lip between his teeth and stripped off her yoga pants, his eyes burning into her with searing intensity. She pulled off her tank top and reached out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards her. 

He hurriedly removed his own clothing while they kissed each other hungrily. “I’d make some suggestive comment right now but I don’t know jack shit about pinball,” Darcy gasped, as he hitched her legs up around his waist. 

“Neither do I,” he shrugged, “but between you and this machine, I’m plannin’ on conductin’ a symphony.” 

He placed his bionic hand on her hip and his right hand at the crook of her neck, sliding himself into her firmly. The machine chimed and Darcy moaned his name out breathily. The auditory feedback was deeply satisfying. Bucky ground his teeth, closing his eyes and thrusting into her again. The machine chimed and whistled. 

“Eyes front, Sergeant!” Darcy snapped. 

_God, he loved it when she bossed him around._ He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze and licked his lips suggestively. 

“Faster,” she instructed, narrowing her eyes at him.

He lit into her with blistering intensity. The machine buzzed and chimed and whirred and whistled, flashing and lighting up erratically as it was jostled beneath them. Darcy gripped the sides of the machine, holding on for dear life as Bucky drove into her relentlessly. He moved his metal thumb over her clit, pressing firmly and she thought that she was going to lose her mind. 

“Darcy,” he gasped, wincing slightly, “This is so fucking hot. Please tell me you’re close. I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this but I’m not gonna last.” 

_Thank God!_ She thought. There’s only so much pounding a girl can take. She was starting to go numb.

“Wait, stop!” she ordered, pressing her hands against his chest and pushing him slightly. He pulled out of her with a look of concern. “It’s okay, Sarge,” she said softly, “I just want to reposition.” 

He kissed her and she rolled over, leaning against the machine face down. She moved her right hand between her legs, touching herself expertly. He thrust into her from behind, his hands gripping the sides of the machine. Darcy closed her eyes, returning to the fantasy she had conjured earlier of Loki and Bucky together in a cheap hotel room, naked, glistening, kissing each other ravenously. The thought drove her teetering over the edge. 

“Oh, Bucky!” she moaned, “I’m so close. Fuck me.” 

It was exactly what he’d been waiting to hear. The backbox on the machine read TILT and the machine reset as Bucky erupted with a snarl, collapsing on top of her. It was just the push that she needed and she came shuddering beneath him, with a high-pitched whine. He remained collapsed on top of her breathing heavily into her ear. 

“Get off me, old man!” she teased, “Ugh. You’re crushing me.” 

He bit her shoulder playfully before pulling away and standing up with a stretch. Darcy rolled over and sat on the pinball machine watching him get dressed. He was flushed and smiling and stumbling a bit and Darcy couldn’t help laughing. He picked up her clothes and brought them to her, pulling her tank top back over her head and helping her to step back into her pants. It made her insides squishy. 

“So, what’s a girl gotta do to get a snow cone around here, Sarge?” she asked with a smile. He grabbed her hand, leading her a cooler fully stocked with shaved ice and a shelf lined with bottles of syrup in a variety of flavours and colours. “Just one of the small benefits of being pen pals with a frost giant, sweetheart," he drawled.


	17. Rule Number One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dig in and enjoy! This is a long weekend for me, so hopefully, there'll be more to come soon (or possibly a deadshock fic). As always, thanks for the comments and kudos. You nerds are alright! xo
> 
> You can also hit me up on tumblr.

It had been one hell of a wacky day. Darcy sat trying to take it all in, nestled closely next to Bucky on the ferris wheel. His cybernetic arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she could hear his heartbeat where her head rested against him. It was cozy and romantic – the perfect follow up to banging it out on a pinball machine in some crazy closet dimension. 

They had been on the ferris wheel for what felt like hours. She wasn’t sure if it was the result of extensive training in interrogation but he peppered her with a seemingly endless torrent of questions and she all too eagerly provided detailed responses to each one. In return, he made a genuine effort to answer most of the questions that she asked him. 

They alternated between exchanging confidences like partners in crime and making out like hormonal teenagers in the back row of a movie theatre. This appeared to happen most often when she asked a question that he didn’t care to answer. She had to hand it to him, it was an effective technique but hardly an effective deterrent. 

His face hurt from smiling and her lips (and other assorted bits) ached from overuse. It was a delicious kind of misery.

“So, I guess this place is a little like Fight Club,” Darcy said, glancing up at him. He stared at her vacantly clearly missing the reference. 

“Seriously?” she replied, her eyes widening in disbelief, “’The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club.’”

“Nah. I haven’t seen it, doll,” he replied with a shrug, “Does it have explosions?”

Darcy considered his question thoughtfully while he watched her with bated breath. She might have taken just a little longer to respond than was actually necessary. There was something exhilarating about being the subject of his complete, intense focus – something dangerous. He had sighted many others through the scope of his rifle with a similar constancy but they hadn’t lived to tell about it. It made her skin ripple with goosebumps.

“Yeah, it does,” she eventually replied with a filthy grin. “I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy, Sarge. How about we head back to your living room, order in some food that isn’t candied, buttered or deep fried and watch Fight Club?”

As much as liked her suggestion, Bucky suddenly felt himself seized by a creeping panic. His throat tightened, his heart began racing and his right palm was coated in sweat. They were approaching the evening of the second day of Darcy’s long weekend. In another short day, she would be returning to work and her usual routine of early mornings and late nights toiling away in the lab. He was having too much fun with her. He was absolutely not ready to let her go.

_Oh God, why was he being so clingy?!_ Vintage Barnes was never one to lose his head over some skirt – more like, under some skirt... What was happening with Darcy was something different entirely and he was someone different too. He was balls-deep in foreign territory. 

He glanced at her, realizing that she was still waiting for his response. Shit! He was already halfway to fucking this up. He had to try and play it cool or she was gonna run for the hills. And then he was struck with a pretty terrible idea.

During previous visits he had determined that time passed differently in Loki’s carnival space. All he had to do was keep her there and the rest of the world would be waiting exactly as they left it when they passed back through the bookshelf. It was selfish and idiotic but possibly do-able.

“Hello, Bucky?!” Darcy asked sharply, “You better not be jerking me around again, old man!”

“Sorry, doll,” he quipped, biting his lower lip softly, “You’re just so damn beautiful that I got lost in your eyes…” _Ooh! That’ll do just fine_ he thought, biting back a smirk.

Darcy responded with an involuntary and embarrassing giggle. _Oh God, what the fuck was that?!_ She was tittering like an infatuated school girl. This was _so_ not happening. She had to try and play it cool. 

“Oh, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you nail on top of a pinball machine,” she sassed, “C’mon, Sarge! Let’s move out.” _Still got it!_ Darcy thought giving herself an imaginary high-five.

Bucky pressed a button on the outside of the cabin and they came to a gradual stop at ground-level. He unlatched and stepped out of the car, turning back and offering his metal hand to help her out. It didn’t sweat. His cool façade remained intact. _Pretty slick!_ He thought to himself with amusement.

The sight of him standing with his hand outstretched to help her off the ride made her stomach fill with butterflies. He was so gallant with his old-fashioned manners… She shook her head firmly, preventing the escape of a dreamy sigh.

“I got this!” she declared, slapping his hand away and hopping on to the ground with a flourish. _Nailed it!_

Darcy hurried ahead in the direction of the door to the tunnel but there was no sign of the entrance. She spun around in confusion, her level of irritation increasing steadily. 

They were firmly on Loki’s turf. Bucky might trust him, but she sure as hell didn’t. She had witnessed his idea of ‘fun’ first-hand and it came with a body count. Leave it to him to lure them in with promises of candy and gingerbread before stuffing them into a hot oven. She was going to have to buckle down and try to figure this shit out.

Bucky caught up to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a kiss. She wriggled out of his grasp with a groan, “Ugh. Give it a rest! How the hell do we get out of here, Bucky?” She moved towards a thick square hedge, examining it closely hopeful that it might offer some clue about the location of the entrance to the secret passageway.

Her reaction stung. Bucky flinched with a scowl and flexed his cybernetic hand as the plates in his arm realigned noisily. Maybe he should just call off this ridiculous scheme and show her to the exit, if that was really what she wanted. But what about what he wanted?! He turned away from her, clenching his jaw tightly. He knew that he was being crazy, irrational, unreasonable and it only served to fuel his spiralling frenzy. With each passing moment, his fear of completely losing control expanded exponentially.

He closed his eyes and took in a long, slow breath focusing on the distant notes of the Wurlitzer. Darcy sighed impatiently waiting for an answer to her question. She opened her mouth with every intention of tearing a strip off of him and closed it again, watching him cautiously. He didn’t look so good... 

He stood with his back to her hunched slightly, every muscle in his body set rigidly. The time for playing it cool was over. She approached him slowly, gently placing her hand over the red star etched into his shoulder. His blue eyes snapped open meeting hers.

“Are you okay?” she asked with a look of concern. 

He nearly started into his fantastical spiel about the puzzle they would have to solve to access the hidden door, setting them off on a wild goose chase when Darcy’s hand came to rest delicately on his cheek. His skin was pale and clammy. 

“Bucky, whatever it is, I’m here. It’s going to be okay,” she said evenly. 

He observed her silently, letting her words of reassurance settle tenderly inside of him and swallowed thickly. _She was here with him and it was going to be okay._ It echoed within his mind like a mantra, flooding him with a quiet stillness, extinguishing his hysteria. He exhaled unreservedly, expelling any remaining notion of deceiving her. _She was here with him and it was going to be okay._

She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. 

“You don’t seem to be running a temperature, but you’re so sweaty and twitchy. Do you even get sick?” she pressed “Maybe you’re coming down with something.” 

His lips turned up into a lopsided grin.

“I don’t usually get sick,” he replied, his gaze darkening, “but I think you might be right. I’m startin’ to think it might be terminal.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes as he seized her and kissed her thoroughly. She relaxed into his arms, letting him take what he needed from her. He drew back to let her catch her breath. 

“I got thinkin’ about Monday and I almost lost it, Darcy,” he said soberly, his eyes burning into her, “I don’t wanna scare you off but I don’t really do things in half measures.” 

“Yeah, I’d kinda noticed,” she replied with a warm chuckle, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Sarge. I’m not looking forward to Monday either.” 

He smiled brightly, taking her by the hand and leading her towards a sprawling chestnut tree in full bloom. It smelled heavenly. As they approached, her vision became clouded by a filmy green haze and everything slowly faded to black…

Darcy's eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the rays of the late afternoon sun that were streaming in through the window in The Winter Soldier’s living room. She was sprawled out on his sofa with her head in his lap. The opening scene of Fight Club was playing on his flat screen TV. He was watching it contentedly, stroking her hair absently with his right hand. She blinked several times, trying to clear her head. 

She was quite sure that she had just spent hours and hours in Big Top Narnia but if that was the case, it should be much later in the day. Was it possible that she had dreamed up the entire thing? She had whipped up some hot fantasies in her time but that pinball machine business was a new personal best. She remembered her lips feeling sore on the ferris wheel and quickly assessed her level of physical discomfort. Everything seemed fine now. It must have been a dream… A sudden yawn drew Bucky’s attention and he glanced down and winked at her. 

She stood up slowly and stretched, struck by a sudden need to powder her nose. As she walked down the hallway towards his bathroom, she spotted the bookshelf at the end of the hall. She approached it cautiously, locating a familiar large green volume on the second shelf. As she removed it, a loose scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. She returned the book to the shelf and bent down to retrieve the note. It was written in an elegant, glittering script.

_My Dearest Sergeant Barnes,_

_You wretched degenerates are always welcome. Might I suggest that on a subsequent visit you have her address you as Loki._

_Eternally yours,_  
_Loki of Asgard_

Darcy strolled back into the living room, reassuming her spot on the sofa with her head in his lap and passed Loki’s note to Bucky. She watched with amusement as he read it over and burst out laughing. 

“It’s only a suggestion, doll,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “You probably noticed that time passes differently there and… injuries… heal faster there too. You got any other questions for me, sweetheart?” 

She responded by shushing him sharply and nodding towards his TV. “Rule number one, Sarge.”


	18. Spicemare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter and I hope you do too! As always, thanks a million for your kudos and feedback. You nerds are alright. xo

Darcy Lewis knit her brows attempting to grasp her current situation. 

It had been one hell of a wacky day but sitting cuddled up with Bucky on the sofa to watch Fight Club, Darcy had felt as if things had finally taken a more relaxing and domestic turn. 

He’d seemed completely at peace, a goofy lopsided grin on his face, watching the movie with a dreamy look in his eyes. His bionic arm had been wrapped around her and he’d let out an occasional sigh of contentment, squeezing her tightly. It had been disarmingly adorable. 

When the subject of dinner had arisen, he’d pinned her to the sofa and attempted to bury his face between her thighs. She had squirmed away in a fit of giggles, protesting loudly with cries of “I’m starving!”and “This is serious, goddamn it!” He had finally relented with a disappointed groan of resignation. 

Darcy had been craving something savoury and had ordered in vindaloo for two. Bucky had hesitated briefly when Darcy had handed him his plate. It had smelled delicious but spicy food didn’t always agree with The Winter Soldier. Eaten too close to bedtime, it would sometimes trigger a ‘spicemare’ – a series of colourful, intense and unusual dreams that occasionally ended in sleepwalking.

Darcy had barked at him to “man up” and the part deep inside of him that still yearned to serve had him shovelling it into his mouth before he could consider the matter further. He had smiled widely when she had hummed out an approval upon discovering that he had completely cleared his plate. It had seemed to scratch an itch so primal that it had made him grind his teeth with a satisfied rumble.

They had spent the remainder of the evening watching movies, snuggling and making out. Evidently, at some point, they had fallen asleep on the couch. Darcy awoke to find herself lying trapped beneath one very sexy and very heavy sleeping super soldier. 

She tried to wiggle out from underneath him but only succeeded in revealing that she quite desperately needed to use the washroom. He had somehow managed to wrap himself around her ensnaring every part of her body. Her arms and legs were totally compromised. She whistled and called out his name, but he merely turned his head and let out a loud snore. Darcy laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of her predicament and her bathroom situation only became more urgent. 

Just as she approached the verge of a complete meltdown, Bucky sat up stiffly. Darcy sprang up wordlessly and made a mad dash for the washroom. Thankfully, she made it just in time. As she washed her hands, she heard some rustling coming from the direction of the kitchen. She peered out into the hallway and spotted Bucky in front of her coffee maker filling it up. Aww! He was preparing her morning coffee service. How thoughtful! 

As she approached the kitchen, she noticed that her coffee maker was brimming with a heaping mound of grounds and he just continued adding scoop after scoop after scoop.

“Woah, dude! That’s enough!” Darcy exclaimed. 

He dropped the coffee scoop, and turned towards her. His clear blue eyes were wide-open and unfocused and a deliciously dazed and vacant expression played across his pretty face. He let out a loud snore and proceeded to slowly and seductively strip off his clothes. Darcy briefly considered running to grab some loose singles out of her wallet. 

He was sleepwalking… Actually, he was sleep-stripping. Lord, have mercy! Darcy stood staring, distracted by his overall sculptedness. He turned back towards the counter and she continued to stand transfixed as he opened the cupboard and retrieved a box of Pop-Tarts. She sighed softly as she continued to stare and considered dragging him to bed to see what other crazy things he could do in his sleep. 

Almost as if he had read her thoughts, he shuffled off towards the bedroom, clutching a Pop-Tart in each hand. Darcy followed him cautiously. He stopped at the side of the bed, took a bite out of each of the pastries and placed the remainder under her pillow. He then proceeded to punch it several times with his bionic hand. 

“Ugh. Was that really necessary?” she groaned. 

He responded by turning towards the closet with a loud snore. She cringed at the thought of what he might do next. She was pretty sure that it was unwise to wake a sleepwalker. Maybe she should call Steve for backup… She ran back to the living room to retrieve her mobile and was delighted to discover that it nearly had a full charge.

It sat heavily in her hand as she considered whether to contact Steve. It was late and Bucky hadn’t done anything dangerous yet. News of this episode might call the extent of his recovery into question. She couldn’t be responsible for that. This was nothing that she couldn’t handle. She heard an odd scratching noise coming from the bedroom and wondered what he was doing now. 

She approached his bedroom with trepidation and found him sitting stark naked in the middle of his floor with a shine kit, cleaning his combat boots. She heard the same odd scratching noise as he brushed at the sole briskly with a toothbrush – with her toothbrush… 

“Perfect,” she grumbled, “It’s a good thing that you’re so chiseled… and sexy… and smirky…. and filthy...” Her voice trailed off breathily as she continued to watch him clean and polish his boots.

He worked with military precision – practised, organized and efficient. There was something captivating about watching him work at something that he had done so many countless times before. The smell of the polish only added to the experience, triggering a deep throbbing between her legs. Well, this was certainly a new and unique addition to the Winter Soldier Thighlight Reel...

She observed him intently as he wrapped his metal hand in a soft cloth and used it to buff the leather to a brilliant shine. She imagined removing the cloth from his bionic fist and replacing it with herself. Unfortunately, that might wake him up and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to test her theory about waking sleepwalkers – especially sleepwalking Winter Soldiers.

He stood up abruptly carrying his boots in his cybernetic hand and started walking towards the kitchen. Darcy moved aside to allow him to pass and followed at a safe distance. He opened the fridge and set his boots inside, removing a tube of cookie dough and a package of processed cheese slices. Darcy winced at the thought of what was coming next.

He squeezed the tube of dough with his bionic hand until the end burst open, raised it to his mouth and took an enormous bite. He’d told her that he had a sweet tooth but this was too much. He set the tube down on the counter and unwrapped a cheese slice. He held it in his hand, picked up the tube of dough and squeezed a dollop into his palm. He then proceeded to cram the revolting concoction into his mouth, chewing and smacking his lips loudly. “Oh, hell no!” Darcy gagged. It was quite possibly the grossest thing she had ever seen. She couldn’t stop him but she couldn’t stand to watch him either.

She retreated to the bedroom, jumping into bed and pulling the duvet over her head. She desperately tried to scrub the mental image of Bucky with a mouthful of fake cheese and raw cookie dough from her mind. Oh God, it was fucking terrible. Why did it have to be so awful?!

After several quiet minutes under the covers, she felt a dip in the mattress as Bucky silently settled beside her. She slowly drew back the duvet, bracing herself for whatever crazy shit he was doing now. He sat next to her staring absently into space holding a very large assault rifle. Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard, regretting her decision to try and handle this herself. 

She sighed in relief as he opened a cleaning kit and began scrubbing out the barrel with a long, flexible brush. This certainly explained the origin of the gunpowder scent that she had detected on his sheets. She could smell it again now and it reminded her of the feeling of his hand wrapped around her throat as he had pistoned into her relentlessly, knocking the breath out of her with each solid thrust. The throbbing ache between her legs returned with gusto and she pressed her thighs together with a soft groan. 

Observing him while he cleaned the gun was easily as stimulating as watching him polish his combat boots. He worked at it with the same military precision and intensity. The rifle was an intimidating piece of ordinance but even fast asleep he had it under his complete control and handled it with a degree of reverence. 

He could kill her with it. He had probably killed other people with it. And here he sat cleaning it in her bed. It made her entire body spark with arousal. She bit her lip softly considering whether it might be time to schedule a psychological assessment. He suddenly rose from the bed and she realized that she wasn’t the only one with problems – he was fully erect. She pressed her thighs together again and her eyes rolled back into her head. 

He walked over to his closet and stowed the assault rifle and cleaning kit. He retrieved something else before securing the weapons locker and returning to bed. Darcy held her breath as she watched him unroll a worn leather case lined with an array of vicious-looking daggers. He reached in and removed a substantial blade and began running it deftly back and forth against a whetstone.

The sharp sound of the metal scraping against the stone sent shivers up her spine. Big surprise but this was working for her as well, if not better, than the assault rifle. The long soft rasping noise made her twitchy and every inch of her skin tingled with excitement. 

She knew that she shouldn’t wake him up but all she could think about was climbing on top of him, jamming her tongue down his throat and stuffing his bionic hand between her legs. Her pulse raced and her breathing quickened as she watched him hone the blade. If she was going to make the mistake of waking him, she should at least wait for him to put the knives away first.

Unable to resist any longer, she lowered her right hand beneath the sheets and began to work her own whetstone with a similar level of military precision. She bit into her lower lip, watching carefully as he drew the blade rhythmically across the stone. Her entire body hummed as she hurtled towards her release. She passed the point of no return as he slipped the dagger back into its case, rolled it up tightly and tied it closed. She came shuddering, calling out his name with a soft gasp.

The sound seemed to finally rouse him from his walking slumber. He shook his head slightly and turned towards her admiring her hungrily. His gaze raked down the length of her body, coming to a stop where her hand lay buried between her thighs beneath the sheets. His jaw tightened and his eyes flicked back up meeting her gaze.

“I can explain-“ Darcy began to stammer out. Bucky didn’t give her a chance to finish. He was on top of her in a flash, removing her hand from her slick folds and replacing it with his own. She was the very epitome of a hot mess. He smirked and let out a low whistle, lining himself up and pressing into her firmly.

“Bucky,” Darcy gasped out, “You’re awake, right?”

He replied with a wink and hummed warmly as he thrust into her at a slow even pace.  
She rocked her hips against him moaning shamelessly as he hovered above her propped up on his elbows. She wrapped her hands around his powerful biceps and pulled her lower back up off the mattress, inviting him in further. He eagerly helped her to reposition, with a warm hand under her ass and a roll of his hips. She twined her legs around his solid torso to secure herself and he plunged into her, gasping out “Fuck, Darcy.” 

He leaned down to kiss her and she turned her head away with a chuckle, grimacing at the thought of his disgusting midnight snacking. He slowed his movements, nuzzling into her neck and whispered sharply, “What’s wrong, doll? Don’t ya like me anymore?” 

She arched her neck and bit his earlobe tugging on it gently with her teeth. “I don’t know,” she teased, “I’m kind of on the fence, Sarge.”

He leaned back on his knees, grasping her chin in his cybernetic hand and turned her face until her eyes met his own. He shifted his weight forward moving inside her with penetrating strokes and ran his metal thumb over her lower lip.

“What if I wanted to kiss my best girl?” he asked, squeezing her chin firmly.

“Brush your teeth and we’ll talk, Sarge” Darcy replied, running her nails down his back. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he chided, “You feel so good. You gonna be a good girl and let me kiss ya?” 

“Fuck, no!” Darcy replied chuckling darkly. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her and the muscles in his jaw twitched. He withdrew from her brusquely and stood up at the side of the bed. 

“Well, if you can’t be good for me,” he growled, “I’m gonna have to treat ya real bad.” 

He grabbed her ankles roughly, pulling her towards the edge of the bed and forcefully flipped her over repositioning her onto her hands and knees. Darcy’s breath caught in her chest and her eyes snapped shut as she focused on the feeling of being completely dominated by him. She wondered how much further she could push him by refusing to behave properly. 

He placed his large strong hands on her hips and ground up against her, running his hard length along her silky lips. 

“So, are we doing this or what?” she sighed impatiently. 

He responded with a sharp slap on the right cheek of her ass. She only barely managed to remain silent by biting into her lower lip. He wasn’t playing around. She wondered briefly whether it was wise to provoke him further. 

"Thank you, Sarge! May I have another?" she asked churlishly, shaking her hips at him in defiance.

He responded by grabbing a handful of her hair in his bionic hand and sheathing himself inside her boldly. She could hear the plates in his arm recalibrating as he tugged on her dark tresses. She let out a gasp and he brought his right hand down against her again forcefully. 

“Ow, fuck!” she bit out against her better judgement.

He used his grip on her hair to turn her head back towards him and shushed her, rubbing his warm hand over the angry red welt on her ass. His hand moved to her hip and he drove himself into her with smooth measured strokes. 

“Mmm…” she murmured, “That’s more like it. I guess your bark’s worse than your bite, Sarge.”

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, doll,” he drawled, “You fixin’ to straighten up and fly right?”

“Hell, no!” she retorted with a laugh. 

He answered with another sharp slap. She bit back a howl and her eyes burned with tears. She had never felt more alive. She suddenly lost the ability to support herself with her arms and her scalp burned as her weight became suspended by the fist in her hair. It sent her sailing towards the precipice of what was certain to be an earth-shattering climax. He continued to piston into her mercilessly.

"Oh, Bucky, please,” she gasped out, “Please, don’t stop. I’m so close…”

He released her hair and leaned forward, slipping his left arm around her waist and bringing his metal hand up between her breasts to settle at the base of her throat. He pulled her up towards his chest effortlessly and wrapped his right arm around her firmly rubbing two fingers over her clit in a circular motion. She melted into his arms, letting him take over completely and closed her eyes wishing that the moment could go on forever. 

“Now was that so hard, doll?” he whispered hotly into her ear, “Since you asked so nice, I’m gonna get you off and then go brush my teeth. Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes…” she moaned.

He tightened his grip around her throat and continued to thrust into her roughly, asking “What’s the magic word, Darcy?”

She ran her hands along his arms, stopping to grasp his wrists and arched back towards his chest. He felt so good. She knew which answer he wanted but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She closed her eyes focusing on the sound of their hot flesh smacking together and the feeling of him inside of her. 

“Now?” she asked archly, “Is that the magic word, Bucky?”

Darcy cracked herself up and started laughing and he couldn’t help laughing either. The combined sensation sent her flying and she climaxed explosively, laughing and cursing Bucky repeatedly. Her release triggered his own unexpectedly and he erupted inside of her with a similar combination of laughter and swearing. They eventually grew quiet and he held her against him a few moments longer, nuzzling into the crook of her neck before pulling out and gently setting her on to the bed. 

He rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Darcy stretched out on her side of the mattress, flipping over her pillow as she tried to get comfy. The moment she did so, she remembered the Pop-Tart he had crushed earlier. She reached under her head with a groan discovering a mound of pastry and gooey filling in her hair. 

“Hey Sarge,” Darcy called out with a mischievous grin, “When you’re done there, can you grab me a bottle of water?”

Bucky rinsed his toothbrush and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen and things started to get weird. His clothes appeared to be strewn across the kitchen floor. On the kitchen counter, Darcy’s coffee maker overflowed next to a pile of cellophane wrappers and a partially empty tube of cookie dough. He rubbed the back of his neck in confusion and opened the fridge to grab Darcy’s water. The light inside the icebox reflected harshly off his freshly-polished combat boots where they sat on the bottom shelf. Oh God, the vindaloo! He’d been sleepwalking again…

Bucky returned to his bedroom, dropping his combat boots on the floor and laying down next to Darcy with a sad sigh. He passed her a bottle of water and stared at the ceiling.

“Spicy food sometimes makes me sleepwalk,” he said softly, “I’m sorry if I scared you. When did Steve leave?”

“Steve wasn’t here,” Darcy replied with a grin.

“Then who’d you call for back up? Thor?” Bucky asked turning his head to look at her.

“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle,” she quipped brightly.

“Jesus Christ! Are you shittin’ me?” he gasped out in astonishment, “Boy, you’re one helluva stand-up dame, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, you’re one hell of a strange dude, Sarge… A strange, hot, crazy dude who’s dynamite in the sack...” Darcy replied breathily.

Bucky rolled on top of her, gazing down at her fondly. “How 'bout that kiss?” he asked running his hand through her hair and ending up with a fistful of pastry and filling. He furrowed his brows in bewilderment as Darcy pulled him down towards her and kissed him senseless.


	19. The Wager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Darcy... Loki?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's something. Hope you like it! As always, thanks for your kudos and comments. I love feedback and am highly suggestible. xo

Some time during the night, Darcy awoke shivering and alone. She sighed loudly, her stomach wrenching at the thought of Bucky sleepwalking again. And why was it so cold? Her hair was still damp from the quick shower she had taken to wash away the remnants of crushed Pop-Tart before she and Bucky had retired for the night but that didn’t fully account for the chill that she felt. The air in the apartment was frigid, seemingly fuelled by a powerful draught. 

She grabbed some clothes from her overnight bag and dressed quickly. She cautiously approached the door to the hallway and peered towards the kitchen. Bucky’s clothing had been removed from the kitchen floor and the counter had been cleaned. She looked the other way and noticed that the bookshelf door to the secret passageway was ajar. As she approached it, the air grew cooler, confirming it as the source of the draught. 

She entered the passageway and after turning several corners, the air warmed and she found herself back below the star-filled sky of Loki’s carnival dimension. She scanned the horizon and spotted Bucky standing in front of the skee-ball lanes beside a taller, darker, leaner figure. She crept closer trying to listen in on their conversation without being spotted.

It was Bucky and Loki and they appeared to be engaged in a very serious competition. Reams of prize tickets spewed out of each of their machines as they rolled their skee-balls furiously. Bucky’s bionic arm recalibrated noisily between each toss.

Darcy watched them intently from the shadows. Bucky’s hair was tucked behind his ears haphazardly, his navy sweatpants were slung dangerously low and his grey t-shirt appeared damp and clung to his sculpted body deliciously. 

Loki was even more dashing than Darcy remembered, dressed in buttery black leather pants and a rich emerald green tunic. His sleeves were pushed up past his elbows and his dark soft hair hung loose above his shoulders.

"Oh, yes!" Loki called out, clearly pleased with one of his shots. 

“Hey, I hope you’re playin’ fair,” Bucky answered, “How do I know you aren’t using your magic, Loki?”

“Were I using my powers, I would have earned my victory an hour ago,” Loki replied, between tosses, “You must know that I could never deceive you, James.”

“Yeah. Alright,” Bucky replied awkwardly. He was absolutely right about Loki – he was most definitely still sweet on Sergeant Barnes.

Loki looked directly at Darcy from the corner of his eye and smirked. He glanced back at Bucky declaring, “Besides, I aim to earn that kiss from Darcy fair and square.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Bucky retorted.

Darcy saw red and her blood boiled. She shot up from her hiding spot, striding towards them in a fury.

“Hey!” she snapped, “What the fuck kind of alpha male bullshit is this?!”

Bucky winced at the sound of her voice, letting his ball roll out of his hand. It hit the grass with a soft thud as he turned to face her slowly. Loki pivoted gracefully, a wide smile across his face, effortlessly juggling three of the balls between his long nimble fingers. Neither said a word.

“Well?” Darcy asked placing her hands on her hips.

“Ooh. She is fearsome,” Loki said, raking his eyes up and down the length of her body, “I can see why you like her, James.”

Bucky choked on a laugh, biting into his lower lip.

“Loki of Asgard,” he grinned, bowing theatrically and continuing to juggle without missing a beat.

“Yeah,” Darcy sniffed, “I’m familiar with your work. What I’m dying to know is why you think that you could win a kiss from me by playing skee-ball against Bucky.”

The pair looked at her blankly and it only served to make her angrier.

“The only person who gets to decide who I’m going to kiss is me,” she growled.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, sweetheart!” Bucky said gazing at her remorsefully, “You’re absolutely right.”

“Well said,” Loki agreed, as he continued his juggling, “I would never seek to claim more than you cared to offer. Although, I am a tall, dark and handsome magical prince. Clever. Cultured. Elegant. Some call me Silvertongue. Others worship me as a God. But I understand if you are not interested.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest with a frown. This constituted a gross violation of bro code. Darcy stood quietly contemplating Loki’s words and Bucky became surlier by the second.

“Alright. You can carry on, if you want,” Darcy replied cocking an eyebrow, “But first, take your shirts off and kiss each other.”

Loki face split into a wide grin and he removed his shirt eagerly while Bucky stood staring at her dumbfounded. Darcy’s eyes mapped out the expanse of Loki’s pale exposed skin. He looked like he was carved out of marble. His body was a perfectly chiseled work of art. She glanced back at Bucky and his gaze hardened. He was not amused.

“I like a man who can take direction. I might just give you that kiss even if you lose," Darcy said to Loki with a smile. He replied by winking at her seductively.

“Woah! Wait just a second, doll,” Bucky interrupted angrily, “I thought you were my girl.”

“Yeah?” Darcy retorted, “I thought so too and then I discovered that I’d become the ante in some idiotic pissing contest…”

“Darcy, please,” Loki stepped in, “The kiss from you was my idea alone. Do not blame him. He cares for you most ardently and only made this wager with your best interests at heart.”

“My best interests?” Darcy asked, turning on Bucky indignantly, “You know what, between this and you slapping the shit out of me earlier, I feel like we need to get a few things straight. If we’re going to be together, we’re going to be equal fucking partners. If you can’t manage that, then I am not the right girl for you.”

Loki stood transfixed, quite certain that she was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen - besides James, that is...

“Darcy,” Bucky replied soberly, “That’s exactly what I want. And, I’m sorry about earlier – I thought that was workin’ for you.” He reached out for her hand with his cybernetic arm and she grasped it with a reluctant smile.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie. It totally worked for me,” she offered, “Now, take off your shirt and kiss Loki…”

He stared at her and gave her hand a squeeze. It wasn’t going to happen. Goddamn it.

“Or, you could try telling me what prompted this little contest,” she sighed defeatedly.

“Allow me to explain,” Loki invited, drawing closer to Darcy, “James was upset and unable to sleep after the sleepwalking episode and came here to brood. Things were quiet at my end, so I was able to dispatch this duplicate to offer some small comfort. He asked me to furnish an enchantment, allowing you to invoke a trigger word to disable him in the event of a future episode and I took the opportunity to make a game of it. I really am the worst..."

Darcy looked at Bucky skeptically, and he shrugged slightly, “That about covers it, doll.”

“I fully intended to bestow the enchantment regardless of who emerged victorious and remain happy to do so, but I must warn you that this kind of magic comes at a price,” Loki continued.

“What kinda price?” Bucky asked, wrapping an arm around Darcy’s waist protectively.

Darcy held her breath, hoping earnestly that the price was Loki and Bucky making out while she watched. Come on, Loki and Bucky making out...

“Gods, I so seldom find myself at a loss for words but I am unsure how to put this delicately,” Loki said with a frown. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to find the right phrasing.

“James, you and I would need to bed Darcy in tandem,” Loki explained carefully.

Darcy’s eyes widened and she gasped audibly at the thought of being ridden like a bicycle-built-for-two. Bucky’s grip around her waist tightened.

“You can’t be fucking serious, Loki!” Bucky snapped, “Nope. Thanks but no thanks.”

“Hold on,” Darcy replied, raising her index figure, “Let’s hear him out…”

“Really, Darcy?” Bucky asked harshly, “This is serious. You don’t have to-“

“Listen,” she interrupted, “This is about my safety and it was your idea in the first place. Plus, this isn’t even actually Loki. It’s a duplicate, like a projection…”

Loki hummed an agreement. “All valid points, indeed,” he added, “Do you remain unconvinced, James?”

Bucky wrapped Darcy in his arms and drew her firmly against his chest, rocking her gently as he and Loki exchanged a long meaningful look.

“I guess there’s no chance you could do this as a broad?” Bucky asked with a small smile.

Loki answered with a slow shake of his head and Bucky swallowed thickly. 

Darcy took a step backwards and placed her hands against Bucky’s chest. 

“Let’s do this,” she said evenly. Bucky nodded a grudging agreement. 

Loki snapped his fingers and the balls that he had been juggling vanished, replaced by a serving tray holding three pewter steins. “Asgardian ale,” he said offering the refreshments with a flourish. The three drank deeply and the tension between them slowly began to melt away.

Loki led them towards an immense grey bouncy castle. The exterior was printed with a realistic cobblestone façade and it was topped with a number of towering spires. 

“Wow. Cool!” Darcy exclaimed. She glanced at Bucky who was looking at her as if she was out of her mind. “Aww. Lighten up, Sarge!” She goaded, “We might as well make the most of this. Lemons, lemonade, et cetera…”

She approached the castle, polishing off her ale and tossed the stein aside. She climbed inside, jumping several times and began peeling off her clothes. Bucky and Loki stood watching her frozen in place. 

“Come on,” she teased, “This castle isn’t going to storm itself!”

"By the Norns," Loki whispered breathily, "She is perfection.” 

“This is a one-shot deal,” Bucky growled, “You got that, Loki? She’s mine.”

Loki rolled his eyes sighing dramatically. “I understand that this is difficult for you but it could be most enjoyable for everyone involved. As much as I admire Darcy, you must know that I am not doing this for her. You have nothing to fear from me, James.”

Bucky emptied his stein and released a long slow breath, letting his reservations ebb away. He took a moment to reflect on Loki’s words. He was the reason that Darcy had to do this in the first place. It hardly seemed right for him to make this more awkward by being sulky and jealous. He decided to focus instead on making this as enjoyable for her as possible. 

As he stood wrapped in his thoughts, Loki took the opportunity to undress and was soon inside the castle bouncing and laughing next to Darcy. Bucky was suddenly struck by the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation and he was laughing too. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. 

He stripped off and pounced on Darcy, knocking her to the cushioned floor with a playful snarl. They bounced upwards and came back down again. She landed on top of him and leaned down kissing him eagerly. He could taste the ale on her breath and could feel its effects when she ground up against him coating him in a sheen of wetness. 

Loki dropped down beside them watching them with keen interest. Darcy drew back to catch her breath and Bucky drew the soft peak of her right breast between his lips. She ran a hand through his hair in encouragement and glanced at Loki, thrilling with arousal as he watched them, stroking himself languidly.

Loki reached out with his free hand and caressed her cheek delicately. He moved his thumb across her lower lip and Bucky brought his teeth down on her nipple discovering that the sight of Loki’s hands on his girlfriend was unbelievably stimulating. Darcy let out a sharp cry and Loki used the opportunity to press his thumb between her full soft lips. Bucky bit back a gasp as his entire body lit up in response to Loki and Darcy together.

She ground down against Bucky pulling on his hair roughly and he placed his hands on her hips driving himself inside of her with a groan. She closed her lips around Loki’s thumb, sucking and running her tongue against him humming warmly. 

“Darcy,” Loki said softly, “I wish to kiss you. Might I claim my prize?” 

Darcy glanced down at Bucky, seeking his feedback. He shrugged slightly, nodded towards Loki inviting her to go ahead and continued to move himself inside her slowly.

Darcy turned towards Loki biting down on his thumb gently and shook her head up and down in time with Bucky’s strokes. Loki took a deep breath and gingerly removed his digit from her mouth. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, carding his long fingers into her soft chestnut curls.

She closed her eyes, tilting her chin upwards and he kissed her heatedly, gazing down at Bucky from the corner of his eye. They remained locked in each other's gaze as Darcy parted her lips and slipped her tongue into Loki’s mouth. Bucky ground his teeth, gripping her tighter and moved inside her with increased vigour. Watching them together was so wrong and so hot. 

“Oh, Bucky!” Darcy moaned throwing her head back shamelessly. Loki wound his fingers in her hair and moved his lips to the side of her neck running his tongue over a sensitive spot below her ear. She moved her free hand to Loki’s hardened length and began grazing her fingers along his skin teasingly. Bucky bit into his lower lip using every ounce of self-control to keep from blurting out, "Put it in her mouth."

Darcy glanced down at Bucky noting the pained expression on his face. She ran her fingers lightly up and down his chest rolling her hips against him as Loki’s clever tongue traced the smooth column of her throat.

“Fuck, I love watching you, sweetheart,” he said softly.

“Just me or me and Loki?” Darcy teased. Loki glanced at Bucky awaiting his answer with bated breath.

“Both,” he said with a laugh, flushing with embarrassment.

“I get it,” Darcy replied with a grin, “Why do you think I’ve been trying to get you two to make out all night?”

Loki gracefully rose to his feet beside Darcy, running his fingers through her hair as Bucky rocked into her steadily.

Darcy grasped the base of Loki’s rigid length and looked up at him licking her lips suggestively.

“Will this allow you to do your trick?” she asked cocking a brow.

“Indeed,” Loki purred. He placed a large hand at the back of her neck as she held him firmly and began swirling her tongue over him. 

“God, you’re such a tease,” Bucky said, moving his bionic thumb over her clit.

She flicked the end of her tongue against Loki’s tip eliciting a harsh gasp from both men. Their eyes burned into her intensely and her pulse raced as she revelled in the feeling of the power she held over them. 

Bucky began to draw tight circles over her with his cybernetic digit as she drew Loki to her mouth and slid him between her lips. She closed her eyes focusing on the feeling of the two men moving inside of her and began sucking and tonguing Loki expertly. He tugged on Darcy’s hair and gazed down at Bucky ravenously. Bucky pistoned into Darcy, bouncing her in his lap, his breathing becoming ragged as he watched Loki plunder her mouth with abandon. Bucky pressed his thumb against her firmly and she moaned around Loki wantonly. 

“Oh, James!” Loki sighed breathily.

Darcy’s eyes snapped open and she looked up at Loki furrowing her brows in confusion. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth gazing down at Bucky fondly. She cleared her throat, squeezing him with her hand and Loki’s eyes met her own. She withdrew him from her mouth and pumped her hand along his slick length.

“Oh, James?” she asked archly. Bucky licked his lips and chuckled darkly. Darcy glanced at him with a scowl.

“Can you blame him, doll?” he said with a wink, “You look so pretty workin’ him with your mouth. You gonna finish him off for me?” 

At that moment, Darcy decided that this was so much hotter than watching Bucky and Loki make out. Loki’s fingers tightened in her hair and she opened her mouth allowing him to press himself inside her deeply. 

He closed his eyes, and concentrated on weaving together the threads of the enchantment. The castle began to brighten with a pulsing green glow. Darcy and Bucky felt their skin tingle in response to Loki’s magic and they shared an intimate look of disbelief. 

Loki began muttering something in a language that they didn’t understand and it made Darcy shiver. Loki opened his eyes, pinning Darcy beneath his searing green gaze and the muscles in his jaw tightened. 

“Gods, Darcy!” He spat out gripping her tightly.

She closed her eyes redoubling her efforts as he approached his end. Loki glanced down and found Bucky watching intently with a glean of undistilled desire in his eyes. He mouthed Loki’s name silently, narrowing his eyes and Loki came suddenly letting out a string of foreign profanity. Darcy swallowed his release and he stood stroking her hair softly as the green glow inside the castle ebbed away slowly. He sank down to his knees beside her and kissed her thoroughly.

“It is done,” he announced proudly, “but you are not. Might I offer a suggestion?”

The pair watched him expectantly. He raised his hand into the air and snapped his fingers. The three were instantly repositioned. Bucky was propped up in a sitting position in a corner of the castle with his knees slightly bent. Darcy was spread on top of him with her back pressed against his chest. Loki was sprawled out on the floor face down with his chin resting propped up on his elbows. He smiled up at them sinfully from between Darcy’s parted thighs. Behind him, a mirror hung suspended in thin air.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, kissing the crook of her neck and she ground down against him eagerly. He caressed her breasts with his metal hand and they gazed at each other in the mirror’s reflection as he drove himself into her deeply. The castle filled with the sharp wet slapping sound of him thrusting into her.

Loki placed his broad hands on Darcy’s hips and pressed his face up against her, unleashing the erotic fury of his clever tongue upon her. Darcy cried out a torrent of nonsensical curses, thrashing wildly. The two men held her firmly in place as they continued to work her over relentlessly.

Bucky watched in the mirror as she reached back grabbing a section of the hair at the nape of his neck with one hand and a clump of Loki’s dark tresses with the other. His eyes rolled back into his head and he bit into her shoulder with a growl.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Darcy moaned, pulling on the hair in her hands as she squeezed her eyes shut and writhed in ecstasy. Bucky glanced down at Loki meeting his smouldering gaze and he rolled his lower lip between his teeth. Loki winked at him and began softly sucking on her clit. She let out a long high-pitched whine.

“You gonna come for us, sweetheart?” Bucky growled into her ear as he continued to drive himself into her.

Loki sucked harder, humming sensuously and it reverberated through her entire body. 

"Look at me,” Bucky ordered quietly. 

She opened her eyes and took in her reflection in the mirror with a harsh gasp. The sight of the two men pleasuring her was painfully erotic. Bucky’s eyes burned into her with blistering intensity as he whispered harshly, “Darcy, please. I’m so close. I need you to come for me. I wanna watch you make a mess all over Loki’s face.”

It was so incredibly nasty that it sent her reeling and she came shuddering, moaning hoarsely. Loki pressed his warm tongue against her firmly as she rode out her orgasm against him. Bucky watched through the mirror as she came with Loki’s head between her thighs and couldn’t hold back any longer. He buried himself inside her deeply, and reached up with his bionic hand, angling her face sideways. His breathing was ragged in her ear, as he brought their lips crashing together into a filthy kiss. 

Darcy melted into him, feeling completely wrung out and at the point of collapse. He tightened his grasp around her and came inside her in a series of sharp strokes, moaning into her mouth. Darcy continued to kiss him lazily as he drifted down from his climax and he smiled against her lips amazed that he could possibly be so happy.

He held her against him peppering her shoulder with soft kisses and she groaned weakly. Loki rolled onto his back and let out a lengthy contented sigh. They remained together in a comfortable stillness listening to the sound of the crickets chirping outside.

“You wretched degenerates are a terrible influence on me,” Loki’s voice suddenly rang out breaking the silence, “We really ought to hang out more often.”


	20. Mmm... Motorcycle...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier's got a motorcycle and breakfast plans. Darcy comes along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're down to the last day of Darcy's long weekend. I hope you enjoy this chapter - it's a little fluffier than I usually go in for but a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.
> 
> As always, thanks a million for your comments and kudos. It thrills me beyond measure to hear that I managed to make someone laugh or brighten a rotten day. 
> 
> My other work-in-progress is very nearly at an end and I am starting to get excited about setting off on something new. Suggestions are always welcome! xo

Darcy awoke to the feeling of Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around her waist and his lips against the back of her neck. A vivid image of Loki’s bright green eyes played through her mind accompanied by the sound of his voice whispering “Horatio.” Why “Horatio”? She’d expected something clever from Loki.

At any rate, this was the trigger word that she could use in the event of another sleepwalking episode, unless she had simply dreamed the entire skee-ball contest and bouncy castle three-way. She would have to double-check with Bucky when she woke up later – much, much later… She took in a deep breath and nestled under her duvet with a happy sigh. Bucky gave her a squeeze and planted another kiss against her skin.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he said softly, “I’m taking you out for breakfast.” 

Darcy responded with a low groan. 

“C’mon, lazy bones,” he chided playfully, “It’s the last day of your long weekend and we’re gonna make the most of it.” 

She remained motionless. He rose from the bed and opened the curtains. Darcy pulled the duvet over her head with a hiss.

“Final warning, doll,” he cautioned sternly from his position at the end of the bed. 

She grumbled groggily from beneath the covers. He reached out pulling away her warm cocoon in one smooth motion as she transformed into the world’s most miserable butterfly. 

“Why?!” she whined throwing an arm over her eyes dramatically. 

He grabbed her ankle and pulled her down the length of the bed towards him. 

“Alright, goddamn it!” Darcy griped, attempting to squirm out of his grasp, “You do realize that I could just use Loki’s magic password to put you to sleep, right?” 

“Oh, yeah?” he asked arching a brow, “I’m pretty sure that’ll only work if I’m sleepwalking but you’re welcome to try it out and see what happens.” 

He gripped her by the shoulders and sat her up at the end of the bed, dropping to his knees in front of her. He smelled clean and freshly showered. He must have already gone for his morning run with Steve. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“You really aren’t a morning person, are ya, doll?” he asked running his fingers through her hair and examining her thoughtfully.

“It’s all part of my charm,” she replied flipping him off with a grin. Bucky couldn’t argue with that. She had him wrapped around her finger. He placed a soft kiss against the corner of her mouth before standing up and moving towards the door. 

“I’ll be waiting for you in the living room,” he said, “Now, get the lead out, sweetheart! I’m starvin’.”

Darcy rose with a laugh and stretched her arms above her head, relieved to discover that she felt neither as sore or tired as she should have following the events of the day (and night) before. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she wondered what Bucky had planned for breakfast. Hopefully, it involved coffee and bacon in that order.

She sauntered into the living room a few minutes later and discovered Bucky sprawled on the couch fully engrossed in the newspaper. She watched him quietly for a moment as his eyes moved across the words on the page.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer,” Bucky quipped without looking up from his reading.

“That’s a good idea, Sarge,” she replied, digging her mobile out of her purse. 

She held her phone up framing him within the confines of the screen. It was actually a beautiful shot. Rays of early morning sunlight streamed in through the living room window illuminating him in an artistic combination of light and shadow. His classic jeans and slim white t-shirt ensemble added a sense of timelessness. Several loose strands of his hair hung deliciously in front of his eyes as they pored over a story in the rumpled paper propped up in his metal hand. His folded right arm was pinned casually behind the back of his head, exposing his beautifully sculpted bicep. 

She snapped a shot and then two more just to be safe. She checked over the results quickly and sighed. It was a perfect series. In the second image, his eyes moved to the camera and were coloured with a hint of surprise. In the third photo, his gaze remained focused on the camera and his lips turned up into his trademark shit-eating smirk. She glanced over at him and found him staring at her dreamily. 

“Lemme see,” he nodded, setting down his paper and shifting to make a spot for on the sofa. 

She flopped down beside him holding up her phone. He pulled her close with his bionic arm and reached up setting his right hand above hers at the back of her phone. 

“C’mon! Lemme see,” he asked again, pulling it out of her hand. He held it up in front of them snapping an impromptu selfie before turning and kissing her thoroughly while he took several more. She mewled out softly in surprise before completely melting into him. Her lips were soft and inviting and he could taste the minty remnants of her toothpaste on his tongue. He dropped her mobile on the coffee table and she brought her hand up to the back of his neck deepening the kiss. Bucky slipped his metal hand under the hem of her shirt, running his thumb across the front of the right cup of her bra.

“Ooh, this is new,” he purred, pawing at her roughly, “What colour?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she teased, nipping at his lower lip, “I thought we were going to _eat out_.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered choking back a gasp, “Keep that up and we’ll never make it out of this apartment, doll.” 

“Promise?” she asked, arching a brow and reaching for the button on the front of his jeans.

He lowered his right arm brushing her hand away and she palmed his erection through his jeans and squeezed gently. He let out a low groan, pressing himself into her grasp. She suddenly released him, grabbed her mobile from the coffee table and stood up smoothing her clothes back into place. 

“So, where are you taking me for breakfast?” she quipped playfully.

She watched as he silently rose from the sofa and adjusted himself, slipping on his leather jacket and grabbed a set of keys from the kitchen counter. The next thing she knew he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder with a snarl and was walking down the hallway towards the elevator bank. A set of doors opened and he set her down gently and pressed the button for the underground garage. 

She flipped through her phone reviewing the pictures he had taken while he had kissed her in his living room and her stomach filled with butterflies and growled loudly. She glanced up at him sheepishly and he burst out laughing. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s hungry,” he chuckled. The elevator chimed signalling its arrival and he led her into the garage towards his motorcycle – a custom black Harley Davidson Street 750. _Mmm… Motorcycle…_

He grabbed a helmet and turned to face her, carefully securing it on top of her head. He bumped the top of it playfully with his fist before picking her up and setting her on the back of the bike. He zipped up his jacket, pulled on his gloves and settled himself in front of her. She pressed up against him, gripping him tightly and breathed in the earthy smell of his leather jacket. 

He turned the key in the ignition, flipped a switch on the right handle and pressed a button bringing the engine to life with a _wussy little rumble_. She couldn’t resist laughing. She had been expecting the low, mean growl of a Harley Davidson – this thing sounded like the remote control car she got on her thirteenth birthday. She supposed it took a guy as tough as Sarge to drive a bike this lame.

She took in the sights and smells of an early Sunday morning in New York City as they went sailing through back alleys and speeding around corners following a route that seemed plotted by Evel Knievel after he’d gotten into the Wild Turkey. He was totally showing off for her and it was totally working. The bike had a smooth ride and cornered well. She was starting to understand why it made sense for riding in the city.

They pulled up near the Odessa Restaurant, an old-school Eastern European diner. Darcy removed her helmet and he kissed her, pulling it out of her hands. He grasped the strap in his metal hand and and placed his warm right hand on the small of her back, directing her to the end of the queue snaking out of the front door. She glanced at the line and back at Bucky, wondering if they shouldn’t try some place else.

“It shouldn’t be too long,” he said, rubbing her back reassuringly, “Besides, some things are worth waitin’ for…”

His words made her weak in the knees and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing the side of her face against the front of his jacket with a sigh. He held her tightly with his hand at her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair and humming warmly. 

Her stomach rumbled again and her thoughts returned to breakfast. She released her grasp around his waist and turned around. Bucky held on to her pressing her back to his chest as she dug her phone out of her purse and looked up the extensive menu. She scrolled up and down the screen as they planned out their meal together. 

Before long they were ushered into a cozy booth and placed their order. Darcy sighed blissfully as two steaming mugs of coffee were set down on the table. 

“So, how’d ya like your first ride on a motorcycle?” Bucky asked, adding sugar to his coffee liberally. Darcy took a long sip of her coffee, swallowing down a laugh. He thought he was so cool. How adorable!

“Oh, that was a motorcycle?,” Darcy replied smoothly, “I could’ve sworn it was a Vespa!”

Bucky choked on his coffee with a wounded look on his face. “Keep it up and you’ll be walkin’ home, sweetheart,” he teased with a wink.

It set every inch of her alight and she shifted awkwardly in her seat. He noticed and it made him grind his teeth as he considered dragging her into the washroom to find out what colour panties she was wearing. Darcy slipped off her shoe and began running her foot seductively along his calf. He bit into his lower lip reaching across the table and grasping her hand and gently running his thumb along the inside of her wrist. 

“I’d say let’s get outta here but I’m too fucking hungry,” he whispered with a grimace.

Right on cue, their food arrived at the table. As Darcy looked over all of the plates, she wondered if they might have gone overboard with their order. There were latkes, strawberry blintzes, cheese pierogies, scrambled eggs and a meat sampler piled high with strip bacon, sausage links, kielbasa and peameal. Watching as Bucky dug in with reckless abandon, she suddenly didn’t feel so bad. 

“Hey, leave some for the rest of us!” she said stuffing her mouth with a forkful of blintz. She groaned aloud and her eyes rolled back into her head as the sweet creaminess overwhelmed her.

“I told ya this place was worth the wait,” he said between bites, “Guess they don’t make ‘em like they used to…” Darcy rolled her eyes, nibbling at the end of a slice of strip bacon.

“So, whatcha got planned for the rest of the day, Sarge?” she asked taking a sip of her coffee.

“We’re gonna need to walk this off. I was thinkin’ Kandinsky at the Guggenheim or we could see a full reconstruction of King Tut’s tomb at Premier Exhibitons in the East Village. What do you say, doll?” he enquired popping a pierogi into his mouth.

“Oh, King Tut! King Tut!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Perfect,” he replied with a grin, “I booked us tickets online this morning after my run with Steve.”

“Well, you might just be cooler than your motorcycle led me to believe, Sarge…” she snarked.

They were suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of her mobile phone against the tabletop. It was Jane. Darcy picked up her phone letting out a long sigh as her chances of a fun day in the City with The Winter Soldier went up in smoke before her very eyes.


	21. Disintegration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast is interrupted. Some tears are shed. And things get a little smutty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you checked out when things got weird, now's the time to check back in.  
> Here's some straight up WinterShock for you, so dig in and enjoy!  
> As always, thanks a ton for your kudos and comments. You nerds are alright. xo  
> You can also follow me on tumblr for extra credit.

Before Darcy could answer her buzzing mobile, Bucky snatched it out her her hand and shot her a sly wink.

“Hello?” he answered in a low growl.

“Darcy?” Jane’s voice asked in confusion.

“Guess again,” he replied flatly. Darcy watched him with a horrified look on her face.

“No, I’m calling for Darcy, Darcy Lewis,” Jane explained impatiently. “Who is this?”

“This is The Winter Soldier,” Bucky responded, “I’ve got Darcy. She’s with me now.” Darcy rolled her eyes with a sigh. 

“Oh my God!” Jane gasped, “Is she okay? If you hurt her, I swear to God I’ll-“

“She’s fine… For now…” he interrupted. “What happens next is up to you.” Darcy reached her arm across the table towards her phone making grabby fingers. Bucky grinned, shaking his head at her playfully.

“I don’t understand,” Jane murmured. “What do you mean? What do you want?”

“Well, I was hopin’ to spend the day with my girlfriend,” he teased, “and then you called. So, what do you want?”

“Goddamn it,” Darcy groaned, taking a long sip of her coffee.

“Girlfriend? What are you talking about?!” Jane demanded.

“Here, I’ll let her explain,” Bucky said passing her the phone.

“Darcy? Darcy?!” Jane’s voice asked urgently as Darcy slowly brought the phone up to her ear.

“Hey boss-lady!” Darcy greeted. “What’s up?” 

“I might ask you the same question,” Jane replied tightly. “What the hell was that? Since when are you dating Sergeant Barnes? Are you sure it’s safe? I mean, isn’t he still… you know…”

Bucky observed her cautiously from across the table. She reached out and set her hand on his bionic wrist, stroking his arm with her thumb gently. His mouth curved into a lopsided grin and he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding. Darcy bit softly into her lower lip as her insides went squirmy. 

“Darcy, are you still there?” Jane asked.

“Yeah,” she said casually. “He’s cool, I guess… We’ve been hanging out all weekend. He won’t leave me alone. I think he’s in love with me or something…”

He responded with a weak shrug and took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, who could blame him?,” Jane replied warmly. “I’ll expect a full report on my desk in the morning. Speaking of which, have you seen my orange notebook?”

“Please tell me you aren’t at the lab on a Sunday morning,” Darcy sighed.

“No comment,” Jane responded with a laugh. “So, have you seen it or not?”

“Check the bottom drawer of the green filing cabinet under the emergency chocolate stash,” Darcy suggested.

“Just a sec,” Jane replied. Darcy heard some shuffling in the background. 

Bucky gazed at her as he turned his metal hand over and ran his fingers along the inside of her palm. It tickled and she reflexively tried to pull away. He held on to her fingers and brushed his thumb along her knuckles, looking down at her hand and studying it as if he was trying to memorize every detail. 

“Darcy, you are a goddess!” Jane exclaimed. “Now remember, I want a full report tomorrow. Try to use the rest of the day to make it interesting.”

They exchanged goodbyes and Darcy quickly texted her one of the more tame selfies from the series that Bucky had taken earlier. She sat staring at it for a moment and he squeezed her hand.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she replied, looking up at him with a grin. “We should finish this before it gets cold.”

“So, Thor isn’t on his way to rescue you, is he?” Bucky asked, reaching for a sausage link.

“Nope” she replied, scarfing down a bite of latke. “As if I would ever need rescuing anyhow. Give me some credit here!”

“Well, if you did,” Bucky said, taking a sip of his coffee,“I’d come get you, doll.”

“Yeah?” she teased. “You’d probably show up like you’d come to help and then take off on me and leave me hanging.”

“Ouch!” he winced playfully. “I guess I deserved that.”

“You love it,” Darcy replied with a smile.

Bucky’s face suddenly darkened and he dug a mobile phone out of his pocket that she hadn’t even realized that he had been carrying. He typed out a brief message and crammed it back into his jacket with a frown.

“C’mon. We gotta go,” he sighed, dropping an assortment of bills on the table. “I’ve been called out on a mission, sweetheart.”

Darcy chugged the rest of her coffee, trying hard to swallow the solid lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. She really hadn’t taken much time to consider the practical implications of dating a superhero – implications like this.

They were heading back to the tower so that he could suit up and charge off into the face of unknown peril while she sat around helplessly waiting to find out whether he was coming home in one piece or piecemeal. How the fuck did Jane do it? How the fuck was she going to do it? She started to feel twitchy and desperate. Her eyes darted around the restaurant as she franticly searched for a way out.

He watched the colour drain out of her face and was wracked by wave of nausea. After years of surveilling targets, he knew how to recognize panic when he saw it. He wanted to reach out to her and tell her that it was going to be okay, that this was all part of the job and that he’d be back without a scratch like so many times before. The words didn’t come and he remained frozen in place. He just couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. He didn’t actually know what would happen with certainty – he only knew that he had to go.

Bucky rose to his feet, holding the strap of her motorcycle helmet in his bionic hand and reached down towards her with the other. She swallowed hard and slipped her hand in his, rising to her feet woodenly. He led her out of the restaurant, as she silently struggled to hold it together. She just had to keep walking and not crying, _keep walking and not crying_. She put one foot in front of the other and repeated the process, staring into the back of his leather jacket.

Once they reached Bucky’s motorcycle, she took a deep fortifying breath and he turned to face her. As he placed the helmet on her head with a sad smile, she bit firmly into the side of her mouth. He secured the strap under her chin, bumped the top with his fist playfully and picked her up and set her on the back of the bike. 

He took up position in front of her and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing the side of her face up against the coolness of the leather covering his back. She breathed him in deeply and desperately tried to hold it in, rolling her eyes upwards and inspecting the inside rim of her helmet. Crying wasn’t going to change anything. It would only make him feel worse than she suspected he already did.

He pulled on his gloves and started the motorcycle, briefly considering where else they could go. He didn’t have to take them back to the tower. They could drive off together and never look back. Judging from the way that she was holding on to him, it might not be such a hard sell. He swallowed hard at the thought of hitting the open road with her - making love in cheap hotel rooms, taking pictures in random tourist traps, laughing and smiling, the feeling of her arms around him as they left everything else behind but each other. It was an enticing fantasy. 

The muscles in his jaw tightened as they pulled away from the curb and rocketed down the street. He needed to focus, he had a mission to complete. Darcy’s emotions finally won out and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It was going to be fine. He was a highly-trained and extremely skilled professional. He was going to be fine. So why couldn’t she stop the tears from streaming down her face? 

Bucky could feel her trembling against him and it tore him to shreds. Each tremor hit him like a knife in the chest. He wondered if it was going to be like this each time he had to leave her or if things might get easier in time. This was so much simpler when it was only him, when part of him didn’t care if he made it back at all. He searched the horizon for something he could say to make things better, knowing full well that it was hopeless.

He had a job to do and with decades of crimson staining his ledger, his work would never truly be finished. Darcy knew it wasn’t right for her to try and get in his way but her feelings for him made her want to be selfish. She wanted to dig her nails into him and beg him to stay with her, to plead with him not to leave. They were rapidly approaching their destination. She had to try and get it together before they arrived. She wasn’t ready to let him see her like this. Her tears continued to fall unabated, carried off on the wind.

By the time they pulled into the parking garage, Darcy had regained control. Her tears had dried and she hid her puffy red eyes behind the oversized pair of prescription sunglasses she had managed to dig out of her purse. She removed her helmet and handed it to him, striding off in the direction of the elevators. He caught up to her and they stood awkwardly staring at the elevator doors. 

“I don’t know why I’m even worried about you,” Darcy suddenly said, grasping his bionic hand. “I should be more concerned for whoever it is you’re going to meet.” 

The doors opened and she pressed the button for their floor as he pressed her up against the wall of the elevator and kissed the breath out of her. His hands roamed over her possessively as he tried to get as much of her as possible.

“We don’t have time for this,” Darcy gasped out. “You’re probably already late.”  
“I don’t care,” he replied urgently, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Please, doll. I need to feel you close to me.”

The doors opened on their floor and he held her against him and bolted down the hall, bursting through the door of his apartment. He lowered her on to the kitchen counter and began hastily stripping his clothes off. Between the fear of losing him, the manhandling and the intensely hungry glean in his gaze, she felt completely overwhelmed. She managed to set her purse and glasses aside as she watched him in a daze.

“Are you waitin’ for me to beg you for it?” he asked, leaning against the counter and pulling off her clothes. “Please, Darcy. I don’t wanna leave you at all but I just can’t leave you like this.”

“I’m still not convinced,” she teased, as he helped her to shuck off her panties. “I think you’d better keep begging.” 

“Please, sweetheart. We don’t got a lot of time here and I’m dyin’ to feel you wrapped around me before I go,” Bucky said softly as stood between her legs and set his metal hand on the small of her back. He shifted her towards the edge of the counter and began stroking himself as he pressed up against her. 

“Oh God,” she sighed, “I want it too…”

“I’m gonna make it so good for you when I get back,” he said as he thrust himself into her, “but right now it’s gotta be quick an’ dirty.”

“Mmm… Give it to me dirty, Sarge…” she purred.

They wrapped themselves around each other, trying to eliminate as much of the space between them as possible and he nestled his face in the crook of her neck. She could feel the rasp of his stubble and his hot breath against her skin as he drove into her purposefully. She whispered his name again and again, telling him how good he felt inside of her, urging him to keep going, begging him for more, coaxing him towards completion. His movements became disjointed and he came inside her with a harsh gasp of her name. She held him close, rubbing his back and he hummed contentedly. He took a deep breath and drew back and kissed her.

“I’m sorry but I really gotta go, sweetheart,” he sighed, pulling away clumsily. She sat on counter laughing at him. He really was adorable. She hopped down off the counter, gathering up her clothes off the floor and pulled on her shirt and her panties. She opened the fridge and grabbed herself a beer.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she muttered to herself, uncapping the bottle and taking a swig.

He emerged from his bedroom moments later, suited up in his tactical gear and carrying a large pack and a weapon case. 

“C’mere and give me a kiss for luck, doll!” he said holding out his arms.

Darcy polished off her beer, set the empty bottle on the counter and walked towards him. 

“Ugh, you smell like a brewery!” he teased, pulling her into his embrace.

“And they said romance was dead,” she sighed. 

“I’ll be thinkin’ about you,” he said soberly, “and I’ll text you whenever I can. If anything happens to me-“

“Oh, hell no!” Darcy interrupted, grasping the sides of his face and bringing her lips crashing against his. He tilted his head slightly and she darted her tongue into his mouth, making him smile. She nipped at his lower lip and stepped back, pushing him towards the door. 

“God, you’re beautiful, sweetheart!” he said breathily. “I’m going to romance the pants off of you when I get back.”

“I can hardly wait,” she said with a smile. “Give ‘em hell, Sarge!”

He winked at her, like something right out of a newsreel, before turning and walking out the door.


	22. The Sombrero of Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tequila.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey dudes. Here's an update! Hope you like it.  
> As always, thanks for your kudos and comments and more importantly thanks for reading. xo  
> You can also follow me on tumblr for extra credit.

Darcy watched the ceiling spin, sprawled out on the floor of her bedroom as rays of late morning sunshine crept through the cracks between her curtains and the window frame, lighting the room in a harsh glow that seemed to emphasize its emptiness and the hollowness of existence itself.

This was a very low moment indeed. She was day-drunk and alone on a Sunday morning wearing a sombrero and sipping from a bottle of tequila that she had found in the back of her pantry amid leftovers from a Cinco de Mayo past.

It was like that scene in a movie where it's raining and a car drives through a puddle, soaking the protagonist while a chorus of laughter erupts from a passing school bus filled with snot-nosed kids. She hiccupped loudly, half expecting to toss her cookies.

"Ugh. Friday, why did I drink so much?" Darcy sighed.

"You appear to be in emotional distress, Miss Lewis," Friday replied. "Can I call someone for you?"

"Is Jane still in the lab?" Darcy asked weakly.

"Yes, Miss Lewis. Shall I page her for you?" Friday offered.

Darcy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sitting up slowly. She took another sip from the bottle and choked back a sob as the liquid burned its way down her throat.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she muttered, stumbling to her feet and bracing herself against the wall.

"Perhaps you should have some coffee," Friday suggested. "...Unfortunately, I am detecting that your coffee maker has been removed from your kitchen.”

"This place fucking sucks," Darcy grumbled. "He took all my shit and then he left me… How could he leave me like this?!" She took another pull from the bottle and ambled towards the door.

She blinked slowly inspecting her footwear options and slipped on her winter boots. Everything else had heels or laces and seemed far too complicated. She opened the door to her apartment and shuffled out into the hallway.

Jane sat in the lab, flipping through the pages of her orange notebook. She was certain that the formula she was seeking was written in it somewhere. Her mobile buzzed against her desk and she picked it up expectantly. Thor had been called away on a mission with the Avengers and she was eager for an update. She scowled at the screen in disappointment. It was another stupid email alert from some social media app that she didn't give a shit about. Oh well, no news is good news...

She thought for a moment about her earlier conversation with Darcy and took another look at the picture she had been texted of the two of them together. The news that they were dating was a really wonderful and welcome surprise. With all the hours Darcy put in at the lab, it was obvious why she had been single for so long but it seemed so unfair. Darcy was a loyal friend, beautiful and funny and deserved happiness more than anyone else she knew. Jane didn’t really know much about Sergeant Barnes from personal experience but he was definitely handsome and appeared to have a playful sense of humour and that was right up Darcy's alley. She had to admit that she was initially concerned that he might still be dangerous but they seemed so happy together that any of her reservations were swept away with a romantic sigh.

She set her phone down and discovered Darcy swaying unsteadily in the doorway.

"Hey Darcy," Jane greeted cautiously, taking in her ridiculous appearance. Darcy took a swig from her bottle and staggered into the lab, flopping down into the chair at her desk.

"How do you do it?" Darcy asked quietly.

"How do I do what?" Jane replied, rolling her chair towards her assistant’s desk.

"He had to go," Darcy said with a frown. "And now it's just me and my sombrero of sadness. Olé!"

Jane removed the bottle from Darcy's hand and took a long slow sip.

"Did your boyfriend get called away on a mission?" she asked.

"Yeah," Darcy mumbled, "right in the middle of breakfast. I was crying on a motorcycle."

She set her head down against her desk with a sigh. Jane placed her hand on Darcy's back and rubbed it in a soothing circle.

"I wish I could say that it gets easier," Jane said softly, taking another swig from the bottle.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, I tend to focus on my work to distract myself but drinking tequila alone on a Sunday morning in a sombrero without any pants on is a very creative strategy. I'm impressed!" Jane couldn't help laughing. Darcy responded with a groan.

"Oh, God! You aren't going to throw up, are you?" Jane asked as the colour drained out of her face. She didn't do well with vomit.

"No. I already barfed in the elevator," Darcy murmured. "He probably doesn't even care."

"Aww. I'm sure that isn't true! He looked completely smitten in that picture you texted me," Jane cooed.

"Let me see," Darcy demanded, sitting up in her chair and holding out her hand.

Jane picked up her phone from her desk, bringing the photo up on the screen and passed it over. Darcy looked at the picture and smiled widely.

"He's so pretty," she said breathily, taking a long moment to stare at it before setting the phone down on her desk.

"So, what's he like?" Jane asked with genuine curiosity. She had learned about his time as a Howling Commando during history class in high school but a lot had happened since then. If he was going to become a fixture in her friend's life, she needed to know more about him.

"Pfft. I don't know," Darcy giggled drunkenly. "Does Thor ever toss you over his shoulder like a caveman?"

"Perhaps," Jane replied with a laugh. "What's up with that anyhow?"

"I dunno," Darcy shrugged, "but it's hot as hell. You guys ever break a bed?"

Jane nodded, silently taking another sip from the bottle with a wistful sigh.

“I rode it till the wheels fell off,” Darcy said with an air of nostalgia.

“Well, no wonder he’s in love with you!” Jane replied. “What about his arm, is it warm or is it cold? What kind of noises does it make? Does he feel things with it the same way he does with his other hand?-“

“Woah!” Darcy said with a laugh. “You've got a thing for my boyfriend’s bionic arm?”

“I’m a scientist, Darcy! I’ve got a lot of questions. You know, born of my natural intellectual curiosity… That arm though-“

Jane was suddenly interrupted by the vibration of her mobile against Darcy's desk and she snatched it up anxiously.

"It's Thor. He’s with Bucky-boyfriend and wants to know if you're here. He's been texting you and you haven't responded-"

"Oh, shit!" Darcy gasped. "My phone." She shot up out of her seat and the room started to turn. She braced herself against the desk and took a deep breath, trying to regain her bearings.

"So, what am I telling them?" Jane chuckled.

"Tell him that I'm here and that I forgot my phone," she replied, "but don't tell him about the tequila… or the sombrero… or the barf in the elevator… or the wheels falling off…"

"Don't worry! I've totally got this," Jane responded, raising her index finger with a tipsy grin.

Darcy picked up her bottle and took another sip.

"He says that they should be back in time for dinner. We should work on sobering you up," Jane said, reaching for the bottle in Darcy's hand.

"Oh, come on! That's hours away. Let's paaarrrty!!" she said, spinning away from Jane and toppling over her office chair. The bottle smashed against the floor and Darcy lay motionless.

"Goddamn it," Jane sighed.


	23. Lemmy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy goes on a mystical journey through the desert. Will she find her way back to Bucky?

Darcy roused slowly, taking in a deep breath and stretching lazily. The ground beneath her was solid and dusty and the soft chirping of crickets filled the air around her. She prickled with goosebumps as a cool breeze ghosted over her skin. The distinctive howl of a coyote echoed sharply and she sat up with a start, her bright blue eyes open wide. She was sitting alone in the middle of the desert. The sky above her was clear and stars were just beginning to appear as dusk settled. _Was she back in New Mexico?_

Her gaze swept across the horizon as she tried to figure out exactly what was going on. She spotted mesas in the distance but no signs of civilization. She shivered harshly, drawing her knees up to her chest instinctively as something dark and shadowy slithered by. Ooookay... This was so not awesome.

She stood up quickly. It was time to take an inventory. She was in the desert alone at night and had no idea how she had arrived. Her purse was missing and she was dressed in nothing but a t-shirt, her winter boots and a sombrero. Her mouth was cottony and tasted sour. She ran her tongue over her teeth and swallowed trying to clear her palate. She had been most definitely been drinking but she felt stone sober and not the least bit hungover, just a bit murky and confused. 

She shuddered as another howl pierced the air, closer this time. It was getting darker by the minute. _What the hell was she doing here?_ As she felt her panic rising, she observed some rustling from a nearby sagebrush and heard a metallic clicking noise. Oh God, it was likely that awful slithery thing again. Goddamn it. Nature was so fucking overrated. She held her breath, bracing for the worst as the clicking sound intensified. 

She let out a slow breath, furrowing her brows in confusion as The Winter Soldier’s disembodied metal arm came crawling towards her from out of the darkness. It moved along on its fingers like Thing from the Addams Family, holding the rest of the arm above it perpendicular to the ground. The light of the rising moon reflected off its mirrored surface brightly. It skittered forward, emitting the metallic clicking noise and came to rest at her feet, stroking the toe of her boot tenderly.

She stared blankly into the darkness, trying to absorb what was happening. She sure as fuck wasn’t in Kansas anymore but at least she wasn’t alone. If that coyote or shadowy slithery thing attacked her, she was pretty sure that the arm would protect her. She breathed out a sigh of relief, wondering how it had become dislodged and where the rest of Bucky might be-

An insistent tapping on her foot interrupted her thoughts and she glanced down at the hand curiously. She stood frozen in place as it slowly crawled away. It stopped and turned back towards her waiting, fingers drumming against the ground impatiently. 

“You want me to follow you?” she asked, cocking a brow. Now she was talking to an arm… This was way too goddamned weird.

The arm came bounding back towards her excitedly, lingering at her feet like a dog awaiting the toss of a tennis ball. It was ridiculously adorable and she before she knew it, she had bent down and was patting it affectionately. 

“I’m gonna call you Lemmy,” she declared with a grin. It took a few steps back, as if it was suddenly unsure. “You’re metal. It’s perfect,” she stated firmly. It turned around and starting crawling off into the darkness. “Alright. I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” she muttered, following after it cautiously.

She trudged along behind it for what felt like hours, under a bright canopy of stars. The ground was littered with stones, cacti, shrub vegetation and a doubtless myriad of horrible, poisonous creepy crawlies. She watched each step carefully and wondered where the hell they were going. 

The sands spread out endlessly around them, making her feel unbelievably small and insignificant. She eventually began to doubt whether they were even making any progress at all. It all looked the same. It all sounded the same. She had no idea where she was, how she’d gotten there or where she was headed and felt adrift, completely unmoored. 

She suddenly made out something shimmering ahead of them. It appeared to be a narrow, winding creek. A small patch of mushrooms grew along its edge, glowing softly in the moonlight. Lemmy stopped beside it, turning back towards Darcy. She gazed longingly at the sparkling water, utterly parched. Her tongue ran over her lips, finding them cracked and dry. She knelt down at the brook’s edge and stared into the turquoise water, grinning at the colourful sombrero in her reflection.

“Do you think I can drink this?” she asked, glancing over at Lemmy. The arm set itself flat against the ground and the hand twisted into a thumbs up. She responded with a laugh. This felt like a bad trip to begin with, how much worse could a little creek water fuck her up? She leaned down, dipping her cupped hands beneath the surface and scooped the cool water towards her face. She drank deeply, taking in the soothing chill of the liquid on her lips and down her throat. 

She felt something brush up against her leg and looked down, finding the arm nestled against her, holding a large mushroom. “You don’t actually expect me to eat that, do you?” she asked with a hint of derision. Lemmy responded by raising it up towards her eagerly. Darcy felt more than a little conflicted. On one hand, she was quite certain that you weren’t supposed to eat unidentified mushrooms. On the other, she was talking to a disembodied bionic arm in the middle of a mysterious desert. 

She grabbed the mushroom and popped it into her mouth. It was moist and earthy and felt squeaky between her teeth. She chewed and swallowed, instantly regretting her decision. The sound of the chirping crickets became distorted as if she was underwater. Lemmy glittered with rainbow sparkles and her body felt electrified, rippling with a pleasant sensation like pins and needles as a rush of warmth filled her deep inside.

“Duuude, are you taking me on some kind of a vision quest?” she asked, laughing at the bizarre sound of her own voice. “I’m not about to learn a lesson about the nature of existence, am I?”

Lemmy responded by running his fingers along her skin gently. The sensation was overwhelming and she recoiled forcefully, landing flat on her ass with her legs sprawled out before her. Her pulse raced as she watched it move towards her, stopping between her thighs and flipping itself over palm-side up. 

She gazed down at it, suddenly yearning for the feeling of the fingers inside of her and wondered whether it would qualify as cheating. She couldn’t help grinning as the hand beckoned to her with seductive sweeps of its index finger. She grabbed it by the wrist and pulled it towards her, hoping sincerely that what happens in the desert, stays in the desert.

She moaned out loudly as she drew the arm closer and two of the fingers plunged into her wet heat. Her body resounded with a shiver as its thumb settled over her clit and vibrated gently. She rocked the digits in deep and out shallow, quivering against them, focusing on the feeling of fullness and the intense sensations of pleasure that fluttered beneath every inch of her skin. The coolness of the breeze washed over her as she called out for more. 

Her breathing grew short as the vibrations intensified and she continued to thrust against the bionic hand. Her ears filled with the rushing of the beat of her own heart, driving the rhythm of her movements. She was getting close and unsure how much more she could stand. She let out a low whine as her entire body throbbed and she felt her muscles tightening. She writhed against it, desperate for release and came suddenly, squeezing tightly in a hot rush of euphoria. 

She felt her muscles contract sharply as she was wracked with several aftershocks, each a little softer than the last. She let out a sigh as she was overcome with an all encompassing peacefulness and a feeling of harmony with the universe. And then she burst out in a fit of laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of what had just transpired.

She set the arm palm-side down on the ground and it brushed her leg softly for a moment before getting up and crawling away through the creek and into the unknown. She rose to her feet slowly and stretched her arms above her head, watching the arm as it sparkled in the distance. Shit! She was supposed to be following. She bounded after it desperately trying to catch up. She pursued Lemmy up a sand dune and upon reaching the top, Darcy spotted a nearby rocky outcropping. A warm, inviting light flickered steadily from its base. 

The arm continued towards it, glittering in the moonlight and she followed along but seemed unable to catch up. She started to feel twitchy and panicky as it got farther and farther away. Her jaw set in determination, as she continued plodding along. Giving up wasn’t an option. She had to keep going. She put one foot in front of the other and continued to press forward.

She lost sight of Lemmy as a bolt of lightning flickered in the distance and she suddenly found herself caught in a torrential downpour. The rain was warm and soothing and her nose filled with the rich scent of wet earth. She turned her face towards the sky and opened her mouth, drinking it in. A crash of thunder rumbled noisily and her thoughts turned to seeking cover. 

God, she hated running but if she had learned anything from the many victims of her taser, she’d hate being struck by lightning even more. She began to run towards the flickering light in the distance and didn’t stop until she thought she might collapse. Her lungs burned as she finally reached the outcropping and the rain continued to fall in heavy sheets. 

The flickering light was coming from inside a small cave. She approached cautiously, making out the dry crackling of a fire as she drew near. She peered around the edge of the entrance, spotting a dark figure sipping a beer and sitting on a blanket near a campfire. The light reflected off his left arm sharply and she suddenly knew exactly who it was. She ran towards him and he set his bottle down and stood up, welcoming her into his arms with a smile.

“Took ya long enough,” Bucky teased, squeezing her tightly. “We oughta get you out of these wet clothes.”

Darcy carelessly tossed away her sombrero and he pulled her shirt off over her head and lifted her up against him, placing his metal hand under her ass and giving her a playful squeeze. She wrapped her arms behind his neck and he pulled her boots off one at a time as he moved them closer to the fire. He set her down on the blanket gently and started unbuckling his belt. She helped herself to his beer, watching him keenly. 

“So, where the hell are we?” she asked, as he peeled off his shirt. The firelight danced across his muscular body in a delightful play of light and shadow. She polished off the beer and set it aside.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he drawled, stripping off his pants with a grin. He knelt down beside her and she no longer seemed to give a shit where they were. They were together and he wanted her and that was good enough for Darcy. The blanket was thick and soft against her skin and she reclined onto it with a sigh as Bucky crawled towards her. 

She reached up running her fingers over the red star imprinted on his shoulder, as he covered her body with his own. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, drawing out a soft sigh of contentment. She ran her thumb over the divot in his chin and he broke away with a chuckle. The fingers of his bionic hand brushed against her leg, taking her back to what had happened by the creek.

“Any chance you were missing an arm earlier?” she asked, as he watched the reflection of the flames in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he answered with a frown, “Somehow, I knew that it didn’t matter and that you were on your way. I’m sure that must sound crazy… There was a bright flash, like lightning, and my arm was suddenly back to normal. Not long after, you got here.” Darcy was filled with an odd mixture of guilt and relief. Fortunately, she didn’t have long to dwell on it as Bucky slid his rigid length against her silken lips, finding her shamefully wet and ready for him. 

“Ooh, what’s got you so worked up, doll?” he asked, moving himself against her in another hot slide. Darcy responded with a soft moan. “I asked you a question,” he teased, lining himself up against her, so close but not close enough. “What’s got you all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” 

She briefly considered giving him a full account of what had happened earlier as she traced her fingers over the edges of his metal plates. “It’s your arm,” she purred, going with the abridged explanation of events. “The rest of you isn’t bad either.” 

He huffed out a laugh, bringing his bionic hand up to her breast and pressed himself inside of her completely. She hooked her arms over the back of his shoulders, digging her fingers in as she adjusted to the sudden feeling of him deep within. 

He leaned down, ghosting his lips over hers and began driving himself into her steadily. “I don’t know where we are or how we got here or how we’re ever going to get home,” he breathed between strokes. “I don’t fucking care about any of it as long as I’m with you.” She arched her back, tilting her hips towards him, meeting him thrust for thrust. 

“Keep talking,” she blurted out urgently. “You feel so goddamned good. I can’t get enough.”

“Oh, you like that?” he teased, grinding himself against her and hitting her clit just right. Her body responded with a harsh shudder that only served to spur him on harder. “God, you’re so tight and wet. Feelin’ you grip me when I make you go all squirmy drives me outta my fucking mind.” 

He pressed his lips against the side of her neck and nipped over her pulse point sharply. She let out a low whine as her muscles quivered around him, begging for more. He hummed warmly against her skin and it made her feel crazy. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last much longer,” he cautioned. 

She knew damn well that she wasn’t going to last much longer either. Her breathing was ragged and she was throbbing for him as he continued to bury himself inside of her. “Oh God, I’m so close,” she gasped out, every bit of her pleading for release. Her hand moved to the back of his neck, her fingers twisting into his hair roughly. “I’m right here, doll. I want to feel you come for me. You make me want it so fucking bad,” he murmured, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. Her climax came crashing down on her with a bright white flash of light. 

She heard a splash and was suddenly submerged in icy blue water. Bubbles surrounded her as she let out a yelp and struggled to swim towards the light filtering down from the surface. She broke through, gasping for breath, her eyes darting around the room as she frantically tried to regain her bearings. She was in the middle of swimming pool in Stark Tower. Her ears filled with the distorted sound of Jane, Bruce, Tony and Natasha calling out to her from the deck in a panic. Darcy relaxed and floated on her back laughing softly, swearing a solemn vow to lay off the tequila until further notice. Hopefully, this would be her very first and very last literal wet dream.


	24. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally updated this bad boy. Hope ya like it! Let me know what you think. xo
> 
> And if you like this, why not check out my WinterShieldShock fic Grand Theft Cheesecake?

Jane crouched down next to her collapsed assistant, desperate for any sign that she was okay. At least she was breathing. That was something, right? 

“Darcy?” Jane called out, squeezing her hand gently. “Oh God, please be okay…”

The room filled with the sound of Darcy’s drunken laughter as she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Jesus, Darcy! Are you alright?” Jane asked with a serious look of concern.

“No,” Darcy groaned weakly. “The tequila’s gone.”

“You don’t need anymore tequila,” Jane sighed. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt? Wiggle your fingers and toes. Move your arms and legs.” Darcy flailed her limbs with more giggling. 

“I can’t feel my face,” she said with a look of confusion. “Can I feel yours?” She reached towards Jane, making grabby fingers. Jane batted her hands away with a laugh. She wasn’t sure whether she had ever seen Darcy this drunk before. Maybe she should take her to medical. She assessed Darcy for injuries while she considered her options. Her train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a muttered curse in Russian originating from the direction of the door to the lab. 

Natasha Romanoff walked towards Darcy cautiously, chunks of glass crunching beneath the soles of her boots. Darcy remained sprawled on the floor, covering her eyes with an arm slung over her face. Natasha chuckled and nudged her with the toe of her boot. 

“No thanks, Mom! I don’t want any pancakes,” Darcy murmured without moving an inch.

“Rough night?” Natasha asked, glancing at Jane with a grin.

“More like rough morning,” Jane replied, running a hand through her hair. “She started drinking after her new boyfriend, Sergeant Barnes, left. I’m surprised you aren’t with them.”

“Bruce, Tony and I just wrapped something up so we got to sit this one out,” Natasha responded. “Clint texted asking me to persuade Darcy to get her mobile. Bucky is driving everyone crazy because she isn’t replying to his messages. I guess this explains things.”

“Yeah,” Jane said with a sigh, “Thor already messaged me. Ugh. You’ve gotta help me out here.”

“Okay,” Natasha said, “We need vinegar. I’ll be right back.” Before Jane could ask for her to elaborate, she was on her way out the door, nearly colliding with Bruce Banner. They exchanged a brief greeting and Bruce stepped past her into the lab.

“Let me guess,” Jane groaned, “Someone asked you to come and make Darcy check her messages.”

“Yeah,” he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Barnes-“

“… is driving everyone crazy because she isn’t replying to his texts?” Jane interrupted.

“That’s right,” Bruce said, picking up a broom and sweeping up the broken glass. “He really must be stealthy because I didn’t even realize that they were together.”

“It’s a recent development,” Jane offered. “I only found out when I called her this morning and he answered her phone and pretended that he had kidnapped her.”

“Oh, God!” Bruce exclaimed, “Sounds like they’re a perfect match… Good for them.”

“Lousy jerks,” Darcy groaned. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here...”

Jane covered her face with her hands and let out a long sigh.

“Sorry,” Bruce chuckled. “How’s the floor, Darcy?”

“Mmm… Five more minutes…” she replied groggily.

“You got any suggestions here?” Jane asked, looking to Bruce for help.

“We might try getting her to eat something,” Bruce suggested, “but this really just needs to run its course. Someone will have to keep an eye on her.”

“Never fear, Tony’s here!” Stark announced, flopping down into Darcy’s office chair and spinning around several times. 

“Did he just refer to himself in the third person?” Natasha asked, following him in with a bottle of vinegar in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

“He did,” Tony quipped, examining the bottles with a frown. “I wouldn’t recommend mixing those together. Wait, is this some kind of Russian drinking game? If so, count me out.”

“You’re not planning on making her drink the vinegar, are you? That’s an old wives tale. It might make her sick but she won’t sober up any faster,” Bruce chided.

“Alright,” Natasha snapped, setting the bottles on Darcy’s desk roughly. “You have a better idea? Let’s hear it!”

“Ooh! I have an idea,” Tony offered, standing up with a grin. “Help me get her into her chair.”

As Bruce and Tony gently lifted Darcy up off the floor, she let out a low whine. They set her down in her seat and her sombrero flopped down over her face. 

“Hey, who turned out all the lights?” she muttered.

Tony began rolling her chair out of the lab while the others followed closely behind. 

“So, what’s the plan, Tony?” Bruce asked.

“Food, coffee and an ice-cold shower,” Tony replied, pressing the call button for the elevator.

The doors opened and before they knew it, Darcy stood up out of the chair, stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to close the doors, blowing a loud raspberry.

Jane jabbed the call button with her finger repeatedly, hoping for the doors to reopen. It was useless. 

A different set of doors opened. Tony abandoned the chair and they all climbed aboard.

“Friday, can I get a fix on Darcy Lewis?” he asked. “We need to find her before she hurts herself.”

“She appears to be in car 6C and is en route to the lobby, sir. Shall I alert security?” Friday replied, as the elevator began to descend.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Tony said, glancing at the others and observing no objections.

“Security has been notified. Will that be all, sir?” Friday asked.

The elevator doors opened and Darcy stumbled into the lobby, recoiling in response to the brightness and the murmur of the voices echoing against the walls. She clomped along in her winter boots headed for the cafeteria, oblivious to the confused stares of the other occupants of the lobby as they took in her ridiculous appearance. Her sombrero nearly blew off as she waltzed through the doors, bypassing the line and approached the counter.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get a grilled cheese around here?” she hollered, ignoring the irritated grumbles coming from the queue. The cashier called over the next person in line and Darcy let out an irritated huff.

“Hey lady! The line starts back here,” an angry voice called out from behind her.

“It’s okay,” she said turning towards the next person in line. “My boyfriend’s the Winter Soldier.” They looked at her blankly. “You know, metal arm… murder strut… best friends with Captain America...”

“Lady, I don’t care if you’re nailing Tony freakin’ Stark. The line starts back here,” a gruff voice called out.

She opened her mouth to respond and was interrupted by an announcement over the PA system. 

_Security Alert. Code Viridian. Employee number 27315. Security Alert. Code Viridian. Employee number 27315._

She froze, furtively glancing towards the doors to the cafeteria. That was her employee number. She quickly moved towards the side entrance as the dark figures of two uniformed security officers appeared in the doorway of the front entry. She pushed through the doors, her boots echoing loudly against the concrete as she clumsily descended the steps of the stairwell. 

The elevator doors opened and Jane, Tony, Natasha and Bruce stepped into the lobby.

“My money’s on the cafeteria,” Natasha said, striding towards it confidently. The others followed after her, scanning the room with their eyes for any sign of Darcy as they went. Natasha noticed groups of people whispering among themselves, laughing and glancing towards the cafeteria and couldn’t help smirking. She really was good. 

Jane’s pocket buzzed with an incoming call on her mobile. She pulled it out, accepting the call and brought it to her ear.

“Doctor Foster? Steve Rogers here. Is Darcy still with you?” he asked politely but insistently.

Jane rubbed her temple, unsure how to respond. She managed a brief, “Uhh-“ before she was interrupted by an announcement over the PA system.

_Security Alert. Code Viridian. Employee number 27315. Security Alert. Code Viridian. Employee number 27315._

“What was that? Is everything alright? Doctor Foster? Are you still there?” Steve pressed.

Before she could respond she heard the sound of a scuffle at the other end of the phone.

“Jane, it's Bucky. Can I talk to Darcy for a minute?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“I’m afraid that she’s presently indisposed,” Jane replied, trying to keep up with Natasha as she followed two uniformed security officers through the doors to the cafeteria.

“What’s that supposed to mean? C'mon, I just really need to hear her voice right now,” he said with quiet desperation.

“Yeah. She cut the line,” a man told the security officers loudly as Jane walked into the cafeteria. “She had on a sombrero and reeked like tequila and she wasn’t wearing any pants…”

“Tequila? Sombrero?” Bucky murmured. “Just what the hell is going on there?!”

Darcy cracked open a door, cautiously checking each side of the hallway. She had reached the floor of the fitness complex. Two uniformed security officers stood at the reception desk at the end of the hallway to her left. Darcy stepped through the door, turning right and slipped through the first door on her left. 

She brought a hand up over her mouth, stifling a laugh as she found herself surrounded by beefy, burly dudes in various states of undress. She had accidentally stumbled into the men’s locker room. She did her best to sneak through unnoticed, creeping along carefully in her heavy boots past the rows of lockers and benches. 

She turned a corner and heard the rich sound of a man’s voice singing.

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? For I must be travelling on now ‘cause there’s too many places I’ve got to see…” 

She tiptoed along through the showers, approaching the songbird as he continued to croon.

“But if I stayed here with you, girl, things just couldn’t be the same...” 

She spotted the singer standing with his back to her and lathering up. Her eyes drifted over his glistening well-defined back as he belted out, “’Cause I’m as free as a bird now…” 

She couldn’t resist joining in, “And this bird you cannot chaaaaange.” He spun around towards her in surprise and raked his eyes up and down the length of her body, smiling widely. It was Sam Wilson. The Falcon.

“What’s up, girl?” he asked with a sexy nod.

Darcy descended into a fit of giggles and dashed out of the locker room through a door on her left. Her nose burned with the smell of chlorine. She had reached the swimming pool and it was completely unoccupied. 

She yawned, groggily shuffling over towards the diving board suddenly exhausted. It seemed a bit close to the pool but it was really comfortable. Before she had the chance to realize that it was a terrible idea, she was already stretched out on it and drifting off to sleep. [insert dream from the previous chapter]

“Jane? You still there?” Bucky asked. “Is Darcy alright?” Jane looked at Natasha, mouthing a silent plea for help. Natasha strode towards her with her hand outstretched, arching a brow. Bruce and Tony followed closely behind.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes,” Jane whispered as she handed off the phone. Natasha brought the phone to her ear, winking at Jane reassuringly and unleashed a torrent of angry Russian. Bruce and Tony looked on in amusement occasionally glancing at each other and trying not to laugh. Jane shifted uncomfortably as Natasha smiled at her, continuing her furious foreign rant. She suddenly ended the call and handed the phone back to Jane with a sharp, “You’re welcome!”

“Sorry. Thank you,” Jane replied, following Natasha as she approached the door to the stairwell. “So, uhh, what did you say to him just now?”

“Well, my Russian’s a bit rusty but I’m pretty sure that I heard some cursing in there,” Tony quipped. “Gold star for Tony?” 

Natasha ignored him as she looked up and down the stairs, trying to decide which direction Darcy had gone. 

“Darcy hates climbing stairs,” Jane offered. “Getting back to your conversation with Bucky-“

“I told him to simmer the fuck down before he scares her away,” Natasha interrupted, descending the stairs two at a time. “People need to be told these things in terms they can understand. Sometimes it helps if it’s in Russian.”

“Oh, God! That’s such a relief,” Jane sighed, following Natasha through the door to the recreation facility. “I was worried you might tell him that Darcy was stumbling around drunk without any pants on.”

“Oh, I did,” Natasha replied coolly. “I told him to quit wasting my time, so that I could get back to tracking down his shit-faced girlfriend.”

Tony couldn’t help laughing as Jane gasped in horror. Bruce just shook his head.

“Relax. I’m just kidding,” Natasha teased, moving towards the unmanned reception desk. “Or am I? I guess you’ll have to wait and see…” 

They waited at the desk for a moment and Natasha slipped into the empty chair.

“Please tell me they didn’t leave their workstation unlocked,” Tony sighed. “This is how security breaches happen, people.”

As Natasha began searching for security feeds, Tony heard a door close to his right. He glanced over, spotting Sam Wilson as he exited the men’s locker room and motioned him over.

“Any chance you’ve seen a half-naked woman in a sombrero?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, actually I have,” Sam replied huffing out a laugh. “The last I saw her, she was headed for the swimming pool.”

“Yes. Here she is,” Natasha confirmed, pointing her finger towards the monitor. “It looks like… she’s sleeping.”

“Thanks Sam! You busy tonight? I get the feeling you’d make a great wing man,” Tony quipped.

“Ugh. Time to work on your act,” Sam groaned, turning towards the stairwell.

The rest of the group moved towards the door to the pool behind the reception desk. Tony quickly pressed several keys on the computer’s keyboard locking it as he walked by, grumbling to himself about information security. Natasha shushed them as they walked out onto the deck and spotted Darcy fast asleep on the diving board. 

As they drew closer, Darcy groaned and rolled onto her side. Natasha held up her hand signalling for them to stop and they held their breath, bracing for Darcy to fall into the pool. The way her heart was beating, Jane was pretty sure that she’d suffered twelve simultaneous heart attacks. If Darcy survived this, Jane was going to strangle her with her bare hands. Darcy stilled and they each let out a sigh of relief. Natasha signalled for them to advance. They crept closer and Darcy mumbled something and rolled onto her other side. Natasha signalled for them to stop again and Darcy rolled off of the diving board completely, sinking to the bottom of the pool like a stone.

Darcy heard a splash and was suddenly submerged in icy blue water. Bubbles surrounded her as she let out a yelp and struggled to swim towards the light filtering down from the surface. She broke through, gasping for breath, her eyes darting around the room as she frantically tried to regain her bearings. She was in the middle of the swimming pool in Stark Tower. Her ears filled with the distorted sound of Jane, Bruce, Tony and Natasha calling out to her from the deck in a panic. Darcy relaxed and floated on her back laughing softly, swearing a solemn vow to lay off the tequila until further notice.

“Alright. Enough. Time to get out!” Jane demanded, approaching the edge of the pool with a towel. Darcy swam over and climbed out and Jane wrapped her up in the warm cotton. 

“Feeling any better?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, I’m still kinda tipsy but more mimosas at brunch drunk than Saturday night in Vegas drunk,” Darcy replied, watching her boots bobbing up and down next to her sombrero in the middle of the pool. Tony knew exactly what she was talking about and gave her a thumbs up.

“Let’s get you showered and into some dry clothes,” Jane said, ushering her towards the door. “Thanks for your help guys. I’ll take it from here.”

“Don’t forget to have her call Bucky,” Natasha replied. Darcy glanced at Jane curiously as they walked out the door and down the hallway towards the elevator. Tony, Natasha and Bruce opted for the stairs, leaving Darcy and Jane on their own.

“He really wants to talk to you,” Jane explained as they boarded a waiting car. “He’s pretty intense, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Darcy grinned and pressed the button for her floor. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Jane passed it over and Darcy flipped through the list of recent calls, redialing the last number. 

“Doctor Foster?” Steve asked, sounding just a little bit out of breath.

“No, it’s Darcy,” she replied.

“Oh, thank God!” Steve sighed. “Hold on.” Darcy heard a commotion, the sounds of shouting in a foreign language and the crack of gunfire, followed by the sound of Bucky’s voice calling “Clear!”

“So, whatcha wearin’, sweetheart?” Bucky purred in her ear. Darcy felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. The man was a total menace.

“Goddamn it,” Steve sighed in the background. “Are you kiddin’ me, Buck?! That’s what was so urgent?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business and quit interruptin’ me when I’m tryin’ to talk to my girl?” Bucky growled. Darcy could hear the whirring of his bionic arm in the background.

“You miss me, Sarge?” she asked quietly.

“So bad, doll. It’s makin’ me crazy,” he sighed. “So, whatcha wearin’?”

The elevator chimed and the doors opened on her floor. 

“Tell you what, call me back on my phone in ten minutes and I’ll tell you all about it,” she whispered. She ended the call and passed the phone back. Jane’s brows knit into a grossed out frown and she wiped her mobile off against her shirt before slipping it back into her pocket.

“Thanks Jane!” Darcy said, stepping off of the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No more tequila!” Jane called after her with a smile. Darcy flipped her off playfully and continued down the hallway. 

She let herself into Bucky’s apartment, stripped off her wet t-shirt and grabbed a soda out of his fridge. The can opened with a hiss and she chugged it down, wandering towards the washroom to raid the medicine chest. Her head had begun to pound. 

The cabinet opened with a creak and she gasped. It was loaded with prescription bottles, filled with tablets and capsules of varying shapes, colours and sizes. Paroxetine, Venlafaxine, Divalproex, Clonazepam… She quickly closed the door, wracked with a pang of guilt. It was a little like Pandora’s Box. What she had seen could not be unseen. She hadn’t intended to commit such an invasion of his privacy but it had happened nonetheless. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her mobile. She took another sip of her drink and returned to the kitchen, picking her phone up off the kitchen counter and accepting the call.

“So, where were we?” Bucky whispered into her ear.

“You were curious about what I happened to be wearing,” Darcy replied with a grin. “I’m afraid there isn’t much for me to say about that.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked quietly. “Why’s that, doll?” She heard a single gunshot in the background and the sound of his sniper rifle reloading. Her eyes widened at the realization that he had probably just killed someone. The fact that she found it so arousing was more than a little disconcerting.

“I’m not wearing anything at all,” she breathed as the slick heat between her legs started to throb.

“Mmm…” he replied. “I like the sounda that. You still in my apartment, sweetheart?”

“That’s right,” she said, wandering back to the bathroom and turning the lever to fill the tub. “I’m naked in your apartment and I can’t stop thinking about you.” Another gunshot rang out in the background, followed by the slide of the rifle being reloaded. Darcy rolled her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes rolled back into her head. 

“Hold on a sec,” he whispered. Darcy heard the sound of movement, the draw of a dagger from its holster and the whistle of a blade through the air. She held her breath, listening carefully and detected the faint groan of a felled target and the leaden thud of a body hitting the ground. At the rate things were going, she was going to get off on the sounds… She couldn’t even finish that thought. This was so hot and so messed up.

“You runnin’ a bath, doll?” he asked quietly. 

“Uh huh,” she replied, turning off the faucet and humming warmly as she slid into the steaming water. “Sure wish you were here with me.” He licked his lips at the sound of her body moving through the water and squeaking against the bottom of the tub.

“I’m right here,” he breathed. “Touch yourself for me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you get yourself off.”

“What about you?” she asked, slipping her hand between her thighs.

“Can’t. I’m workin’,” he replied. “Doesn’t mean I can’t listen to you though. You touchin’ yourself for me, doll?”

“Mmm hmm,” she murmured. “I like listening to you too.” By the time she realized what she’d said, it was too late to take it back. Bucky huffed out a laugh.

“You mean to tell me that listenin’ to me… work makes you hot?” he asked incredulously.

“Everything you do makes me hot, Sarge. So fucking hot,” she said, moving her fingers over her slick skin. She heard a burst of automatic gunfire, the rumbling of thunder and a single shot from Bucky’s rifle. 

“Mmm… You like that, sweetheart? Tell me how it feels,” he whispered, reloading his rifle. 

“Oh, fuck. It feels so good,” she murmured, her body pulsing as she moved her fingers across her clit faster. He sighed into her ear and she let out a clipped moan.

“You’re getting’ awful close, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “I’ll bet you look so pretty with your hand jammed between your legs.”

“Oh, Bucky,” she gasped. “Keep talking. I love the shit that comes out of your filthy fucking mouth.” Every inch of her was throbbing and each beat brought her closer to ripping apart at the seams.

“The feelin’s mutual,” he replied with a dark chuckle. “When I get home, I’m really gonna show you what this filthy fucking mouth can do. I’m gonna make you forget all about the time you broke my bed. I’m gonna bury my face between your thighs until you’re beggin’ me to stop. I’m gonna take you to places you’ve only dreamed about. You like the sound of that, doll?”

She really did. She really, really did. 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” she moaned breathily. She heard the distant rumble of an explosion and shouting in a language that she didn’t understand. A single shot from Bucky’s rifle rang out, followed by the smooth slide of the rifle being reloaded. 

“C’mon, Darcy. I wanna hear you come for me,” he whispered in her ear, shooting again and reloading. “Don’t keep me waitin’, sweetheart. I want it so bad.”

She gave in suddenly and completely, shuddering and moaning, overcome with euphoric release. It was warm and beautiful and even though they were miles apart, she felt closer to him than ever.

“Jesus,” he gasped under his breath. “I’ll never get tired of hearin’ that. I wish I could wrap my arms around you and never let go.”

“That’d make it pretty hard for you to shoot straight,” she said with a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure I could figure somethin’ out,” he quipped. “Thanks for keepin’ me company, doll. I’ll be home soon.”

“Alright,” Darcy sighed. “Give ‘em hell, Sarge.”

Bucky ended the call and slipped his mobile into his pocket with a dreamy sigh.

“Hey lover boy,” Steve’s voice sounded in his ear. “The next time you’re talking dirty to your girl, you might want to make sure you aren’t on an open comm.” Thor grumbled in agreement as the sky rumbled with thunder and Barton broke out into peals of hysterical laughter.

“No one mentions this to her. Understood?” Bucky seethed.

“Sure thing, Sarge!” Barton teased. “You tell me how she broke your bed and we got a deal.”


	25. How 'bout that kiss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think. xo

Bucky quietly opened the door to his darkened apartment and stepped inside, listening carefully for any sign of Darcy. There was only peaceful stillness. It was as quiet as he normally found his apartment after returning from a mission in the dead of night but somehow different. The silence was warmer, the hollow echo that he had come to recognize so well had been swept away without a trace by the woman who was waiting for him - Darcy. He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief and closed the door, locking it behind him. 

His fingers worked quickly and precisely as he knelt down and unfastened his boots. He slipped them off and set them by the door and began stripping off the rest of his gear without a sound. Thoughts of climbing into bed and wrapping Darcy in his arms made him clumsy and giddy. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he took in a breath and attempted to refocus, stacking each piece that he removed into a neat pile. He decided to hold off on cleaning it until later and tried to remember the last time he had changed up his routine like this. Change was good...

He strutted down the hallway, fighting the urge to head straight for bed and turned into the bathroom. The least he could do was wash his face and brush his teeth if he was going to come to bed unshowered. He washed up at the sink, remembering the way she’d refused to kiss him after he’d been sleepwalking. It simply wasn’t something he was willing to risk. 

He efficiently flossed and brushed his teeth, taking in his reflection in the mirror with a reluctant smile. Part of him still questioned whether he had any right to be so happy after all of the misery he had caused and the terrible shit he’d done. He spit into the sink, knitting his brows pensively and rinsed off his brush, setting it back next to hers in the glass on the counter with a sigh. Maybe he’d never deserve her but he’d stick around as long as she’d have him, doing everything he could to make her happy. His eyes returned to his reflection uneasily as he dried his face off with a hand towel and tossed it in the hamper.

He turned away from the sink and carefully approached the door to his bedroom, slowly easing it open as he stepped across the threshold. The sight of her wrapped in the sheets in the darkness made his breath catch in his chest and he couldn’t help but stand and stare. She was perfect, every single thing he had ever wanted and God knows he wanted her. 

He silently approached the far side of the bed, rolling his eyes at the discovery that she had stolen the entire duvet and both of the pillows. The bed creaked as he slipped in behind her, tucking his right arm beneath his head and pulled her firmly up against his solid body with his bionic arm around her waist. He nuzzled the back of her neck, drinking in her scent with an intoxicated hum. She yanked one of the pillows out from underneath her and tossed it over her shoulder. As it landed on his head, he heard a muffled snicker.

“Well, look who’s awake,” he drawled, stripping the sheets off of her with a growl. She clung to a corner of the duvet so tightly that her body rolled towards him as he attempted to wrench it out of her grasp. Her blue eyes widened as they came face-to-face and she was unable to prevent the escape of a breathy sigh. His mouth turned up into a lopsided grin and they lay quietly taking each other in.

“Hey, Sarge,” she said after a long silence.

“Hey, doll,” he responded, blinking slowly. “Sorry for wakin’ you up. You’ve got work in the mornin’. I should let you get back to sleep.”

“You’re right,” she sighed sadly. “How about a kiss goodnight?” 

“You sure that’s such a good idea?” he asked, as one of his brows twitched up suggestively. “You might end up awful tired at work tomorrow.”

“I’m always looking for an excuse to drink more coffee,” she replied with a grin. “Besides, I had an early night. I climbed into bed right after my bath.”

“Smart and sexy,” he purred, rolling her onto her back and pinning her beneath him. “Looks like I hit the goddamned jackpot.”

“You ready to cash out, Sarge?” she teased, wetting her lips invitingly. 

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, hovering closely above her and brushing her hair back from her face. The hot pulsing between her legs grew more insistent as took in the smell of him – a potent mix of dust, stale sweat and gunpowder. It made her think back to the sound of a single shot being fired from his sniper rifle, the soft slide of him reloading and the excitement of listening to him take down target after target while she got herself off. 

She suddenly raised her head and captured his lips in a blistering kiss, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and holding on tightly. The corners of his mouth twitched and he drove her back down into her pillow, drawing out a muffled moan as he kissed her ravenously. Her fingers sank into his soft, dark hair and she pulled him closer, delighting in the weight of his muscular body pushing her into the mattress. 

The feeling of her reaching out for him had him at full attention, flooded with arousal and aching for the pulsing of her searing heat around him. His right hand settled at her cheek, caressing her skin tenderly as her tongue brushed against his, telling the lurid story of all the wonderfully filthy things she wanted to do to him. His lips twisted against hers as he deepened their kiss with a slight turn of his face and gently sucked on her tongue with a long appreciative hum that reverberated across every inch of her body. He palmed her breast and she broke their kiss with a gasp, rolling her hips against him.

“I just had a brainstorm,” he said, running his hand down the side of her body. “What if I hid under your desk at work tomorrow and spent the day with my face buried between your legs?” His hand slipped between them and his fingers traced over the outside of her slick lips in a sinful tease. “It’s a sacrifice that I’m willin’ to make to keep you motivated, sweetheart.”

“Oh, fuck, please…” she whined, attempting to grind herself against his hand. 

“You’ll have to be quieter than that or we’ll end up busted,” he chided, sliding two warm fingers into her and driving out a raspy cry of his name. “Still too loud. Oh well, back to the ol’ drawing board.” 

He continued to work her with his fingers, finding her so deliciously wet that it made him grind his teeth as the hardest part of him twitched and throbbed. He held his breath trying to keep it together as she rocked her hips against his hand, fucking herself with his fingers. His thumb settled over her clit and she let out a ragged moan that wound Bucky so tightly, he half expected to snap. 

He suddenly shifted down the mattress, deftly leaving his hand in place as he pressed his devilish mouth against her and replaced his thumb with his tongue. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she ground against his face and pictured him glancing up at her from underneath her desk at the lab, his stubble rasping gently against the inside of her thighs. She imagined sipping her coffee and checking her emails and talking to Jane about her weekend as Bucky rolled her office chair closer and moved his tongue over her clit in exquisite loops of varying size, steadily increasing in speed. He rumbled with enthusiasm as he continued to tear her apart stitch by stitch and she tugged on his hair as her smouldering centre clenched his fingers, begging him for more. 

“Holy hell,” Darcy gasped, raking her nails across his scalp. “You’ve got a fucking gift, Sarge. Whatever you’re up to down there, don’t you even think about stopping.” Bucky huffed out a laugh and she could feel the curl of his lips against her as he gazed up at her with a look of sheer joy. It was so intensely genuine that it made the bottom drop out of her stomach and she swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump that suddenly seemed to be forming in her throat. She was fairly certain that he had finally succeeded in his mission to completely fucking ruin her and he wasn’t nearly finished with her yet. 

He shot her a wink, dextrously working in a third finger and began gently sucking on her clit with a soft hum. Her eyes snapped shut and she pulled his hair in encouragement, totally overwhelmed by the warm stretch of his fingers and the sensation of his wicked mouth devouring her, filling her ears with the sound of her heartbeat and every inch of her body with waves of pleasure and hot pulsing desire. It was too much and not enough and absolute fucking perfection. In spite of the dull throbbing inside of her insistently demanding release, she wished it could go on forever. 

Between her breathing and her heart rate and the hint of desperation in the noises she was making, he could tell that she was getting awfully close to the big finish. The closer she got, the more desperate he became to feel her come quivering all over his face, to pleasure her until she ran over, unable to withstand a second more. She deserved nothing less than everything he possibly could give her and in this case, giving was its own reward. 

His eyes pored over every detail of her face - her teeth sinking into her plush lower lip, the corners of her mouth curled up in a wide grin and her eyes clamped shut so tightly that she looked like some kind of Japanese cartoon character. She threw her head back, writhing and gasping out a long string of obscenity as he flattened his tongue and pressed it against her solidly. Her response left him burning and hungry for more. 

His metal fingers dug into the soft curve of her hip, anchoring her in place as she attempted to buck up against him. The feeling of his bionic hand holding her still was so ridiculously hot that it was almost more than she could take. She tried to catch her breath as her body thrummed with arousal and her mind spiralled with thoughts of the filthy mess that she was going to leave all over his pretty face. For some reason, she suspected that he wasn’t likely to object. He certainly seemed to take pride in his work. She pictured his smug smirk wetly shimmering in the darkness and let out an unsteady breath. He spotted his opportunity and moved in for the kill.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his as he began to suck her clit like his life depended on it, pulling her closer with the hand on her hip and crudely twisting his fingers inside of her. His icy blue gaze seared into her, his eyes narrowing slightly in determination and just the faintest tinge of menace. Her eyes widened in excitement as she realized just how badly he wanted her to come apart for him. He responded with a look that suggested that he wasn’t going to stop until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh, fuck, please,” she panted between ragged breaths, hanging by a thread as the deepest parts of her cried out for release. “Please, Bucky… I’m so close…” He responded with a gentle squeeze of his metal hand, a silent reassurance that he was right there with her and fully prepared to stay as long as she needed him. She covered it with her own, slowly running her fingers over the smooth metal, reverently tracing over the edges of the plates in his wrist and he let out a quiet sigh. 

It was small enough that she might have missed it completely, by all rights she probably should have but the fact of the matter is she didn’t. She saw it in his eyes as they unfocused dreamily and heard it distinctly above the rushing of her pulse in her ears. She felt it… a puff of hot breath against her skin and she was reduced to rubble. 

Bucky smiled proudly as she imploded in a flurry of shudders and nonsensical profanity, grinding against his face and clenching his fingers in a series of sharp bursts. All she could do was writhe and curse as her body overflowed with a powerful torrent of euphoria. Her hand tightened around his bionic wrist as she quaked with exquisite aftershocks and his metal thumb lightly brushed over her skin making her tremble. He stayed in place, watching her longer than was actually necessary, waiting for her breathing to regulate and slowly removed his fingers, eliciting a soft groan. 

“Oh, God! Please, no more,” she gasped, glancing down at him in desperation as he pressed one last wet kiss against her. He raised his head revealing a glistening self-satisfied smirk that exceeded her filthiest expectations. She was too wrung out to crack wise. Besides, he’d learned his bragging rights fair and square.

“How ‘bout that kiss goodnight, doll?” he asked, licking his lips and crawling up the mattress towards her like a predator stalking its prey. She buried her face in her pillow, too spent to protest and not entirely sure that she actually objected to the idea of kissing him anyhow. He blanketed her body with his own, nuzzling the crook of her neck with a growl. She recoiled at the chill of his slick face against her skin and he seized the moment, pinning her flat on her back beneath him and looming over her hungrily. Darcy’s eyes flicked from his fierce blue gaze to his shimmering lips and back again and she swallowed thickly. 

“So, how ‘bout it?” he repeated, cocking a brow. 

“Well, I guess it’s the least I can do to thank you,” she sighed, feigning reluctance. He leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against hers as softly as a whisper. Each delicate caress made her lips tingle and she hummed warmly, flicking her tongue against him and inviting more. He moved in closer, playfully nipping at her lower lip and she reached up, grabbing a handful of the hair at the back of his neck and tugged sharply. 

“Mmm… I was thinkin’ that it might be time for a haircut,” he said, wincing blissfully. “I guess you're gonna have to find somethin’ else to yank...”

“Are you fucking insane?!” Darcy blurted, immediately regretting her words as she thought back to the contents of his medicine chest. Bucky scowled, opening his mouth to respond but she didn’t give him the chance. “Sorry. Let’s try that again… Your hair is epic, Sarge. I’m pretty sure that cutting it is against the law and if it isn’t it ought to be.” 

“It’s epic when it’s short too,” he quipped, winking saucily. “I’m sure you’ve seen pictures.”

“Shit. You aren’t modest, are you?” she chuckled, rolling her eyes unconvincingly.

“You _have_ seen pictures, right?” he smirked. 

“Pfft. I don’t know… Maybe,” she replied. He looked at her skeptically and she crumbled. “Alright, fine! It looks good short too… Why cut it though? I hope it wasn’t because of something I said.” He looked at her thoughtfully and swept away an errant chestnut curl.

“I didn’t choose to grow my hair out like this,” he sighed, with a sad smile that broke her heart in two. 

“Oh, God! I didn’t even think about that,” she said ruefully. “I’m so, so sorry.” He shook his head, gazing at her in disbelief.

“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart. Not a goddamned thing,” he smiled widely, hardly able to believe that she could possibly be real. “A whole lotta things have been changing for me lately and it’s been so good… I just figured that I might change my hair too. I’m not too sure about it though. Might be weird seeing myself like I used to be… I’m not that same person anymore.”

“Hold that thought,” she said, grabbing a handful of tissues from the bedside table and passing them to him. “I can’t continue a discussion this deep until you’ve wiped the rest of me off of your face.”

“Seems like an awful waste to me,” he grumbled as he quickly cleaned himself off and tossed the used wad of tissues over his shoulder directly into the waste bin. “Better?” 

“I don’t know about better,” she replied with a hint of remorse. “More appropriate though.” His stomach did a flip at the sensation of her index finger carefully outlining the red star imprinted on his shoulder. “Look, maybe you didn’t choose your hair but it’s yours now - just like your metal arm. Are you going to cut it off too?” 

“Can’t say I haven’t considered it,” he admitted with a weak shrug. 

“Nope,” Darcy responded, shaking her head. “I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.” 

“Like it or not, it’s the truth,” he said, as the muscles in his jaw tensed, “and it’s not always pretty.”

“Jesus, I can’t even imagine half the shit you’ve been through,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “And somehow you’re here with me and you’re funny and thoughtful and fantastic in bed and sexy as hell, but you knew that part already, right?” He rolled his eyes tonguing his cheek like he was channelling Brando. “Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” she sighed.

“Doin’ what?” he asked with a provocative flick of his brow.

“God, help me,” she gasped under her breath. She inhaled deeply and mustered up the strength to continue on in her big girl voice. “I was trying to make a point or something. Okay, how’s this? You’ve been through the worst of it and you’re still pretty, Sarge. Even with the parts you didn’t choose. Even with the parts you think are ugly… I don’t know what else to say.”

“Pretty, huh?” he asked, wetting his lips. “Alright. I’ll hold off on cutting anything off… for now. After all, it’s the least I can do to make things up to you…”

Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he suddenly descended on her, kissing her breathless. She could taste herself on his lips and his tongue and it was so delightfully nasty, that she wondered for a moment if she might be catching her second wind as the tender muscles between her legs pulsed with a dull ache. Wait. Something about what he’d said didn’t add up. She tried to think clearly as his lips slid over hers and his tongue brushed against the roof of her mouth creating a sensation that she couldn’t quite tell if she loved or she hated. What was that thing he’d said again? She couldn’t resist sucking on his tongue a little and he let out a muffled moan. _It was the least he could do._ She was pretty sure that was what he had said. He drew back to let her catch her breath and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. She suddenly remembered his words: ‘After all, it’s the least I can do to make things up to you…’ _To make what up to her?!_

Before she could ask him for clarification, he captured her lips in another blistering kiss. She tried to remember her question as he kissed her senseless. He wasn’t just going to kiss his way out of this. Not on her watch. She melted into him with a sigh. God, why did he have to be such a good kisser? What was it she wanted to ask him again? He kissed her until her lips were sore and she broke away with a yawn. 

“Looks like it’s past your bedtime,” he said softly. She tried to argue but ended up yawning instead. The mattress squeaked as he slid into the spot next to her and covered them with her duvet. He rolled her onto her side and snuggled up against her, wrapping his bionic arm around her waist. 

“Night, doll. I’ll make sure you’re up in time for work in the morning,” he whispered. She hummed an agreement and he couldn’t help grinning victoriously.

“Better wake me up a few minutes early,” she mumbled. “You can make me breakfast and tell me all about the things you have to make up for, Sarge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering what I've been up to since my last update, check out What Happens in the Safe House, Stays in the Safe House. You can also follow me on tumblr for extra credit.


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